Paradise Reborn
by AkamaiMom
Summary: The team returns to Paradise for a celebration and instead encounters a nightmare.  Separated from each other and cut off from the 'Gate, can they discover the island's darkest secrets?  And can they survive them?  Sequel to "Paradise Bound".
1. Pilikia

_For Eb Evans. Hope you enjoy this return to Paradise. . ._

_This is a sequel to "Paradise Bound". I strongly recommend reading that story first, since this story picks up a few months after that one left off. _

_SG-1 Season 5-ish._

_**Paradise Reborn**_

_**Pilikia**_

_(Trouble)_

_Run._

_Run. Breathe. Panic. Don't scream. Hold on. Don't stop. _

_Run! Run! Run! _

_One foot in front of the other—don't look back—don't fall—_

_Don't cry!_

_Run._

Icy rain pelted her—stinging as it hit bare skin. She rounded a tree, skidding in the wet undergrowth, balancing herself against its trunk. Squinting into the dark, she wiped water out of her eyes just long enough for a brilliant jolt of lightning to illuminate a sparse path through the trees. With a huge effort, she shoved away from the tree and into the new direction, uphill, now, along a long line of volcanic rocks.

_Up! _

She forced herself to scale a small rise, scrambling with her one available hand for purchase in the mucky vegetation. Her fingers grasped upon a thorny branch, and she felt the spines rip into her palm. Pain shot through her arm, radiating up from her wrist. Gasping, she stiffened, swallowing a louder cry.

There wasn't time for weakness.

_Keep moving! Run!_

Rounding a stand of thick bushes, she thrust herself through the center of it, thorny branches tugging at her sleeves, at her pants, and snagging the holster on her thigh. Flowers exploded from the branches, littering her jacket with sodden petals and leaves. She grunted, heard fabric rip, and ignored it, pushing on. Moving through the pain, buffeted by the wind and rain swirling around her, she continued through a small copse of young iron wood, and up again—painfully—onto a rocky ledge that led straight to a long line of unprotected grassland.

With a curse, she whirled, pushed backwards by the wind. She lost her balance and stumbled, flailing her left arm for balance, searching through the blackness, the rain, and the storm for another avenue. More thunder sounded with the next bright flash of lightning—and highlighted brilliantly just below, she could see them.

Four of them—a full patrol—their skullcaps shining bright gray in the drenching rain. Large, beefy, their armor made them seem imperturbable. And even as they struggled against the howl of the wind, their staff weapons being used to balance them, they seemed invincible.

She squatted down, hiding behind the slight rise she'd been following. Her cargo felt cumbersome beneath her jacket, and she shifted her balance towards her left side as she scooted along the ground, the sodden grass allowing her to move easily even with only one useful arm.

Shoving backward and down the hill, she rose to a crouch, and then bolted across the grass, praying with every step that the lightning would abate long enough for her to reach her goal—but twenty feet from the treeline, an enormous volley lit up the sky—silhouetting her against the open grassland.

A shout in the woods below urged her to hasten her pace, and she snarled low—in her gut—when a harried glance behind her showed the first of the Jaffa top the crest of the hill.

Jerking around, she fled blindly towards the other side of the meadow, towards a stretch of darkness that she hoped was trees rather than rock. Her feet slid wildly in the slick grass, and she struggled to stay upright as the meadow curved further upward towards a summit lined with tall ironwoods interspersed with strange, curved trees that she'd learned were this planet's version of Koa.

It hurt—her lungs ached—the air had turned frigid with the first violent gusts of wind. She'd been breathing in the coldness now for one—two?—hours as she'd evaded and dodged and eluded the Jaffa that chased her. But she ignored the burning muscles in her thighs and calves and climbed another forty feet before being slammed into an iron wood tree by a sudden surge of wind. Twigs whipped at her face as she huddled against the rough bark, taking tight, wretching breaths until shoving heavily away and aiming herself deeper into the woods.

_Go! Go! Go!_

More lightning. A thunder clap burst around her so loud that it hurt her ears. As the rumbling faded, she could hear them behind her. Footsteps, shouts, the metallic clang of metal and armor. Someone let go with a volley from a staff weapon, and was instantly rebuked with a brusque shout in gutteral Goa'uld.

And still more rain. Cursing the gust of wind that had deprived her of her hat, she swiped at her face again with her torn and bleeding hand, clearing the water out of her eyes. The wind whipped the trees and branches to their limits. And Sam paused, hooking her arm tightly to the hanging roots of a young banyan tree, even as she realized that she was about to reach her own breaking point.

But another glance behind her showed the Jaffa advancing—ruthless-through the meadow, and she knew she had to keep moving.

Again, the voice in her head urged her onward.

_Run! _

_Dodge violently whipping branches and flying debris. Duck around the tree, push through the bushes, avoid the deepest of the puddles, ignore the painful driving rain as it bombarded her bare cheeks._

_Run!_

Once back in the forest, she didn't miss the grass. Beneath her feet, heavy ferns and thick, waxy, groundcover provided a little bit of purchase. She slowed to hike herself over a boulder, then hurried around the root ball of a massive downed koa tree—heading downward, now, towards the flatlands at the base of the mountain.

Slick—water everywhere—she slid on a thin sheet of mud—flailing out with her single free hand and grasping some of the dense shrubbery that seemed to arise up from every available piece of ground in this forest. As she fell, she cursed the Jaffa—whose pursuit had made it necessary for her to abandon the stone walkways that snaked their ways around the range in favor of carrying her burden hell-bent through the wilds of the volcanic mountains.

That was one reason she had to curse them, at least. The cry that escaped her lips had little to do with the mud.

_Don't think about them. Don't think at all. Move. Get back up! Run!_

Her shoulder wrenched as frenetic momentum propelled her inexorably forwards, and she ended up slipping to the ground in a sodden heap. Frantic, she angled her body sideways and landed hard on her left hip—half on a partially-covered boulder and half in the mud. Throwing a harrowed glance behind her, she stopped her slide with a heel in the mud, and a jarring jerk of her leg. Breathing hard, she allowed herself a moment before levering herself back up with a hand on the gritty stone. The rock rasped against the already damaged skin of her palm, and she let out a harsh sob of pain before swallowing it down and forcing herself upright again.

Boots slid again on the mud, and she muttered a curse—a prayer—a plea—as she fought for balance, angling her foot sideways to make the most of the treads as her left hand grasped desperately at whatever she could find to slow her descent.

But it was no use—her right arm instinctively tightened on the cargo she had secured there, and she angled her body to her left side, landing roughly again on her left hip. Bruises on top of bruises. She breathed through the pain—tried not to scream.

The bundle wriggled, and Sam made what she hoped was a comforting sound in the back of her throat as she wiped still more water out of her eyes with her free hand. Searching the density of the forest for a hiding place, she felt a keen sense of relief when a timely volley of lightning gave her a clear view of an enormous banyan tree, thirty yards downhill on a low plain. Beyond the tree, she could see the gray line of stone walkways, and a low shadow of vegetation that Sam recognized as the odd, stunted palms that surrounded the settlement.

If the village was still there.

_Don't think about it. Move! Run!_

Through the din of the driving rain, she heard it again—hoarse shouts, armor clanking, boots crashing through the underbrush. She shook her head—sending droplets of water flying—and clenched her stiff, injured hand, trying to bring it back to life. Heaving one deep breath, then another, she gathered herself back together and shoved off.

This time, she slid directly through the mud towards a patch of dense ferns. Rolling onto her side, she pulled herself upright again, then scooted down the steepest part of the slope sideways. Reaching the bottom, she set out with long, purposeful strides, practically swimming through the scrub brush. From there, it remained only a hard run towards the tree and its promise of shelter. She skirted around the far side of the tree and then came back around, peering through the tangle of hard, vine-like roots upwards—in the direction from where she'd come.

Two of the contingent of Jaffa stood silhouetted against the blackened, stormy sky at the apex of the hill while two others made fast moving dark shadows along the path that Sam had just traveled. She dodged back and forth, zig-zagging along her chosen course, even as a blast from a staff weapon obliterated a young palm tree just feet away. Shielding the side of her face with her shoulder, she flinched and skidded again when tiny bits of wooden shrapnel embedded themselves in her skin.

She bit back a frustrated yelp before edging around the tree again and aiming directly for the palms. Through the tumult of the storm, she could hear them again—closer, now—and two more staff blasts exploded around her as she darted towards the trees.

"Major Carter!"

Faint through the clamor, she heard him. With a half-hysterical search of the tree line, she saw him and nearly let loose a hysterical giggle. Teal'c—his huge body a solid black mass against the darker roiling clouds over the distant sea—staff weapon readied and in position.

His second bellow was larger—deeper—penetrating Carter's ears through the furor of the storm. "Major Carter! Down!"

Sam obeyed immediately—dropping—sliding towards the trees as she would have towards home plate, her already slick clothes skating across the dense undergrowth. Her feet touched a palm trunk, and, pivoting on her hip, she crawled closer to it, scrambling around to the other side as an explosion of weapon blasts lit the air overhead. Huddling her body around her burden, she shielded it from the elements, and from the war raging above.

Screaming—pained shouts—the screeches of death—and then silence within the unrelenting rain, and the omnipresent wind, and the sharp rumble of thunder. She clenched her eyes shut, searching for more dangers, but finding only the distinct sound of Teal'c's staff weapon closing, his booted feet heavy in the grass.

"Major Carter!" He knelt next to her on one knee, deliberate and careful. His hand came down to rest on her shoulder, gripping her, assessing her, even as he asked, "Where is Colonel O'Neill?"

But she couldn't answer. Her voice seemed to be broken—caught painfully in her tight throat. She shook her head, sending water droplets flying.

"Daniel Jackson? Where is he?" Teeth flashing white in the darkness, Teal'c finally managed to turn Sam's head and catch her eye. "Major Carter—we must take shelter in the village. Are you able to walk that far?"

Her faint nod seemed to be answer enough. Grasping her shoulders in his wide hands, he dragged her upwards. Carefully, seemingly sensing her pain—her burden—he placed a hard arm around her back, supporting her as they aimed towards the settlement.

It wasn't far—through the scrub brush of the lowlands, past the stone heiau, down the dozens of feet towards the larger of the two hales. Teal'c dragged her through the entrance, and then guided her as she sank to a heap on the matted floor.

It was dark, but dry. Strangely warm—when outside the storm still raged with its icy pellets of rain and driving wind. She fought to control her breathing, as roughened hands grasped her and started to push the water out of her hair, and away from her face.

"Nohea!"

Sam looked up at the familiar voice. She found the speaker in the darkness—a girl of around fifteen, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders, her lovely face wreathed in worry. She forced a word past the pain in her gut. "Kawehi."

"Nohea—Sam." Kawehi knelt at the Major's side. "Did you find them?"

Sam nodded. With wet, cold fingers, she unzipped her jacket and reached in to where she held the infant.

She was tied to the Major's body with a wide swath of kapa cloth. Tightly swaddled, the baby's soft ear was pressed to where Sam's heart still throbbed wildly in her chest. The Major's t-shirt had been sacrificed as a make-shift diaper, and the baby's little body felt warm and unbelievably alive pressed against Sam's skin. Downy soft, her hair was wet, but she seemed otherwise fine. Through the kapa sling, Sam could feel her breathing, hear the mewling sounds the child made as she sucked on a chubby little fist.

"I brought this one with me—she was the only one I could carry."

"Moana! Keiki-wahine Puamaile." Kawehi turned her body and spoke into the darkened interior of the room. "Moana is her mother. She will come."

"Good. I'm not sure how long it's been since she's been fed."

"She will be cared for."

Of that, Sam had no doubt. Of everything else—she closed her eyes against the images that coursed—ugly, and fractured—through her mind.

"Nohea—where is Colonel Jack? Where is Daniel?"

And to this, Sam could only bite her lip, squeezing her eyes more tightly shut. She felt hands untie the kapa around her body, felt the baby being lifted away, sensed a surge of cool air against her chest. And then Teal'c hands, gently zipping her jacket back closed over her exposed bra.

The Jaffa's voice flowed through the darkness like molasses. "Major Carter. Where are O'Neill and Daniel?"

"She has them." Sam's whisper gritted out from between clenched teeth. She opened her eyes and focused on Teal'c—on his staunch features—on his strength. "She has them all—Daniel, the Colonel, and the other babies."

"Who?" Teal'c's brows lowered over his hard eyes. He waited for three heartbeats—four—before gently shaking her shoulder. "Major Carter—who has them?"

And Sam could barely control the tremor in her voice when she answered. "Nirrti."


	2. Hana Hou

_Again, I urge you to read Paradise Bound if you have not yet done so. This will make much more sense if you do._

_**Paradise Reborn**_

_**Hana Hou**_

_(Do It Again)_

_Thirty-six Hours Earlier_

"So, what exactly are they throwing this party about?" Daniel paused in the middle of the stone path, squinting up at the sun. Swiping at his forehead with the back of his hand, he tugged at the handkerchief he'd tied around his head before looking around him. "I mean—besides the fact that the pig god is dead."

"Good harvest, bountiful fishing, and healthy children." Teal'c's voice seemed more relaxed than usual. He'd fallen in behind the rest of the team, walking easily, his staff weapon held loosely at his side. He neared the archaeologist and then stopped, inclining his head with a rare smile. "All suitable reasons for festivities."

"Harvest. Bounty. Family." Nodding, Daniel gave a lazy shrug. "So, something similar to Thanksgiving?"

Sunlight flashed off the Colonel's sunglasses as he nodded. "Something like that."

"There was a name for the party, wasn't there?" With a small jerk, Sam adjusted the straps on her pack. Shrugging the pack back into position on her shoulders, looked back over at the Colonel. "Mako-something."

"Makahiki." The world sounded staccato coming out of O'Neill's mouth. "They call it Makahiki."

They'd fallen into step easily—familiarly. They'd discussed defensive strategies during the briefing prior to entering the 'Gateroom, but strict adherence to tactics hardly seemed necessary with the balmy breeze swirling around them, and the sun beaming brightly above. Surrounded by this paradise—black volcanic mountains iced with mossy green vegetation, clouds white against the sky, the churning blue-green of the sea below them—military strategy had seemed vaguely out of place.

Of course, it had seemed so the last time they'd visited P7L-626, too. Sam fought back a grimace, suppressing the images that flew to her mind. Heat—she remembered heat. Rushing water. The failed mission up the mountain, and the disaster coming back down. Pain—more than just physical. The numbing sense of loss as Mano had been buried under the rubble of the collapsed palace, and the keening cries of his sister. And the jolting fear that had filled her as, supported only by Daniel and Aki, she'd been suspended over the acrid fires of Halemaumau.

Sometimes, when she wasn't expecting it, she suddenly felt the hot pressure of the Goa'uld's body on her legs, the recoil of the Colonel's weapon at her back, and the press of O'Neill's hands against her body. The rank odor of sulfur would assail her senses, and she would have to take a moment to breathe through it.

But then, it was no different than other memories that would rear up in inopportune moments—flashes of other missions gone wrong. Glimpses of Jolinar, or underground prisons, or slave-filled mines invaded her mind when she least expected them.

Sam had spent a few days in the infirmary, and a few more at home as she'd healed. Janet had been quietly supportive, as had been the rest of her team. Now, some months later, she felt healed. A small scar on her leg served as a reminder of Ku's hand device, and she still sometimes woke up gasping for breath, as if the weight of Kama pua'a were still pressing her body back into his silk-lined bed.

And she'd long ago resigned herself to the fact that all the myriad horrors she'd passed through would revisit her in her dreams.

But, as Daniel had just said, Kama pu'a' was dead, as was Ku. They'd returned the women to the village, and all had returned to normalcy.

Normal enough, as a matter of fact, that the people of the village had invited SG-1 back to their island for the celebration of Makahiki.

"So, is it a traditional thing?"

"I guess." Without a break in his stride, O'Neill turned his head to look at the Major. "At least, that's what they told SG-10."

"Celebration." Daniel squinted to his left, where the ocean shone bright aqua in the sunlight. "'Makahiki' means celebration."

"That, it does—although when I was at Hickam, that word was normally associated with the Boy Scouts—that's what they called their annual jamboree thing." The Colonel kicked a rock off the path with a purposeful flick of his toe. "It was this big fundraiser where the kids could play games and learn stuff like knots and how to make radios out of potatoes."

"Boy scouts, Sir?" Sam felt a grin spread across her face as she looked sideways at the Colonel. "And you actually went?"

"We all went. The military was normally asked to have some sort of presence there." He pulled his hat down lower on his forehead. "And besides. They'd always have shave-ice, malasadas, huli-huli chicken, and plate lunches. It was good times."

Daniel snorted. Loudly. "So, basically, it was all about the food?"

"It was a fundraiser, and they all sold what people wanted." The Colonel threw a smirk over his shoulder. "So, of _course_ it was all about the food."

"O'Neill."

"Yeah, T?"

"What is a 'malasada'?"

The Colonel sighed. With half-smile on his face, he reminisced. "It's kind of like a donut. But it doesn't have a hole. Basically fried dough that's rolled in sugar. It's not Hawaiian, it's from Portugal, I think. There's nothing better in the world."

"Wait." Daniel reached up and poked the Colonel's pack. "I thought you said that kalua pig was the best stuff in the world."

"And you told me it was poi." Carter cast him a questioning grin. "So which is it, Sir?"

"Hey—you're talking here about people who don't just eat until they're full." The Colonel offered an exaggerated shrug. "They eat until they're _tired_."

"So?" Daniel rolled his eyes. "That doesn't answer my question."

O'Neill stopped at a break in the path. Turning, he cocked a brow at the archaeologist. "So I will happily take my fill of all of it. Hey—when in Rome, right? Isn't that what you always say?"

"And you can hide a lot underneath one of those Roman togas, right?" Seemingly speaking to no one in particular, she spared a glance at the Colonel, lifting a shoulder with a casual flair at his expression. "At least that's what _I_ always say."

The Colonel's scowl urged her on.

They reached the first wash-out, and Sam continued a few steps to stop at the edge of the path. A wide swath cut through the vegetation where water flowed down from the mountains to the sea, ending in a riverbed of sorts having been carved through the sand. Dry debris littered the area—branches, boulders, and disarticulated bunches of grass and shrubbery.

"Isn't the ravine deeper than it used to be?" Daniel had pulled up behind her, and peered over her shoulder past the end of the walkway and into the riverbed.

"Yeah." The Colonel nodded towards some chunks of gray stone near the bottom. "And it looks like they've had some more storm damage since we were here before. Part of the path is down there."

Frowning, Sam looked down at the mess. She crouched low, leaning against the weight of the pack she carried. "The sand appears to be dry at the moment. At least it looks like they haven't had much rain recently."

"Yet." Beside her, the Colonel shrugged, the motion mostly hidden by his vest. "Weather's always touchy around places like this."

With a speculative nod, the Major scanned the delta, then lowered a foot to the ground beneath the walkway. Her foot sank into the warm, flowing sand, and Carter hesitated briefly, testing her hold, before putting her weight on it. The riverbank buckled beneath, her and, throwing an arm wide for balance, she skidded the rest of the way down.

"Careful, Major."

"I'm fine, sir." Knee deep, she shifted, then slodged out of the dry sand and into the more compacted area of the debris field. "Just a little uneven there."

"Yes, well." The hint of a grin teased at the corner of his mouth. "Let's try to get off this planet in one piece this time, shall we?"

She couldn't help it—she looked backwards at her CO, only to catch him watching her, his expression uncharacteristically frank. Looking away, Sam bit her lips together—suddenly too self conscious, too self-aware. Because there were _those_ sudden flashbacks, too.

The moments that _weren't_ nightmares.

Stepping backwards, Sam turned and watched as the rest of her team descended into the delta. Picking their way around the jumble of branches and litter, they crossed to the other side, where the pathway appeared to have sustained less damage. It only took a moment for them to climb up the bank and back onto the path.

They made good time for another half an hour, until they reached the second large river bed. Shallower, it stretched twice the width of the first, strewn with much, much more debris. It seemed incongruous, now, in the bright of day, that she had once been found amongst this wreckage. Mano had told her how he and his men had come to encounter her, battered and bloodied, lying bare on the sand.

_Nohea o na wai_.

Lady of the Water, they had christened her. And then they had called her Pele, Goddess of fire, and sent her off to battle a Goa'uld.

She passed through the piles of garbage without stopping, passing the Colonel as he took a more scenic route through the mess. Beyond the delta, across a sea of bright white sand, she could see the low rock formations that created a sea wall. Within the man-made tidal pools swam fish that were swept in during high tide and then became trapped there as the sea receded.

Trudging around the lowest end of the river bank, Sam climbed up the low swell towards the beach. Gaining the upper ground, she circled around for a look back towards the sea.

Blue—green-blue ripples as far as the horizon, sunlight reflecting on the undulating water. White foam built on the crests of waves and then flooded inwards towards the beach, dissipating on the sand. This—this she remembered. The scent of this ocean. Salty and brash—with that ever-present underlying odor of sea weed, and the hint of the deep. She turned her face into the wind, closing her eyes, inhaling deeply even as the rhythmic flush of the water teased at her senses.

"Careful with that stuff. It's pretty potent."

Sam peeped out from under her eyelashes to see Daniel standing near her. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"Really? Built up a tolerance to it?"

"No. It's nice." She looked up, sighing. "It's just not something that I normally get carried away by."

"I thought you liked the beach."

"I do like it—in doses." She rested a hand on her weapon, attached to the clip on her vest. "Maybe I just had enough of it the first time I was here."

Daniel took a moment to peruse the horizon. "It's beautiful."

"But deadly." She felt her jaw tighten. "Unpredictable."

"It's _exciting_." Daniel shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I thought you were an adrenaline junkie."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, big guns, fast cars. Jet planes." He poked her with his elbow. " Motorcycles."

"Ah." She nodded, chewing on her lower lip. "But, see, I'm not big on oxidation. All this salt water would kill my Indian."

"So, it's a protective thing." Swaying a little in the wind, Daniel looked at her from over his glasses frames. "Keeping yourself away from things that can destroy you."

Too close. He was too close. She forced a snort, turning away from the vista, adopting a casual air. "No, it's a sand thing. Have you ever noticed that it gets everywhere? In your clothes, your hair, and stuck to your skin."

"Not to mention your shorts." The Colonel had come up to join them on the rise. "It irritates a guy in—sensitive places. And you know how much I hate the Itchy Britches."

Sam coughed out a laugh. "Yes, well. I've got about a pound of it in each boot right now, sir." She held up an example, extending her leg and waggling her foot back and forth. "So let's get to the village so that I can empty it out."

-OOOOOOO-

"What should we expect of this celebration, O'Neill?" Teal'c spoke once they'd reached the shelter of the wooded area just beyond the beach.

The forest was just as Sam had remembered. The same odd mixture of pine-like ironwood trees and palms, flowering shrubbery and waxy, salt-friendly groundcover that had intrigued her on her last visit to 626. The team spread out in a loose fan-like formation, a few yards apart, as they made their way up through the woods towards the outer edges of the village.

"What do you mean, Teal'c?"

"Makahiki. Surely if these people here celebrate it, then it was not merely a benefit for the Boy Scouts."

"No." O'Neill frowned, looking down as he made his way around a large boulder. "From what I remember, there was something about a god named Lono. He got worshipped for helping the people to grow crops and send rain. Stuff like that. He also gave them strength, so they would show off their athletic abilities in contests."

"You mean like sports and feats of strength. Kind of like the Highland games."

"Right." O'Neill reached up and removed his sunglasses. Folding them up, he hanged them in the neck of his tee-shirt. "And then there was dancing."

"Dancing?" Teal'c turned his head towards O'Neill.

"Dancing." Eyebrows waggling, the Colonel made a suggestive motion at his hip. "Hula. You know—pretty girls. Wiggling—things."

"Come on, sir." Carter called out from the top of the platform. "Hula is about a lot more than that."

"Traditionally, it was the way that the Hawaiian people recorded their stories, their legends, and their religion." Daniel brushed at errant leaves on his clothing. "Not to mention their genealogy. With no written language, it was the best way to make certain that the information was remembered and passed on."

"Yes, well, the hula dancers that I remember did more than pass on history." Smiling, Jack turned and cast a meaningful look at the Jaffa. He waggled his eyebrows. "_Much_ more, if you catch my drift."

Teal'c's canted his head to one side, a slight smile on his lips. "Will we be expected to participate in such an activity?"

"Sure, T." Nodding, the Colonel assessed his team member. "I can loan you a grass skirt. But sadly, I'm fresh out of coconut bras."

The Major sighed as she stepped over a fallen log. Angling a long-suffering look at O'Neill, she resisted the urge to roll her eyes before returning her attention back to Teal'c. "I'm fairly certain that they won't expect us to participate. We're here as guests."

"So, as guests," Daniel squinted through the dappled light of the woods. "We probably won't have to do much more than sit and watch. And eat."

"Yes. Eat." The Colonel's eyes glazed over slightly as the corner of his mouth edged upward. "One thing you can always count on is the presence of food."

"SG-10 said we should expect a full-fledged luau." Sam pulled up next to Teal'c, hooking her weapon to her vest. "Although, to be honest, I don't know exactly what that would involve. All of my experience is too touristy."

"Kalua pig. Fish. Poi." Scratching absently at his ear, O'Neill suddenly stopped. "Among other things."

The trees had thinned, and beyond the outer edges of the woods, they could see the village. Situated in a long, sloping clearing, the green of the grass lay punctuated by small structures known as hales. Each hale had a stone platform base, topped with an array of woven lauhala and palm mats for walls. Thick thatch roofs crowned the residences, tied in place with crude ropes. In some places, three or four of the small structures sat around a central yard of sorts, with logs and boulders placed in strategic proximity. Paths, hard beaten into the grass, meandered, brown and rich, between the living areas.

Smoke rose here and there from small fires, and everywhere, moving, working, laughing, playing, were people.

Broad-chested, stong-legged, their dark hair swirling around their shoulders, the villagers moved with the same innate grace that Sam remembered. Laden with burdens in baskets, or tied to their backs in kapa-wrapped bundles, they strode along long-worn paths in the meadow, while their children tumbled, free and bare, in the thick grass.

And the noise—a cacophony of pounding wood and squawking birds. Shouted instructions and salutations, calls of friendship or question. And above all else, the laughter of the children. The sound of joy. Dizzying in the golden light of the sun, the feeling of warmth transcended the mere location or climate. It was these people that exuded such heat—such beauty—such wonder.

Sam started forward, walking out into the light beyond the woods. Unhooking her weapon from her vest, she dangled it loosely in one hand as she scanned the meadow. Hastening through the tall grasses, she angled around the first hale they encountered, passing it to enter into full view on the meadow, where she came to a stop, her eyes scanning the settlement.

A boy saw first took note of her—a youth of about twelve. Ringed about by younger children, he stood up amidst the melee, pointing at Sam with a triumphant smile. "Aia la! Aia la!"

"Ho'ea! Ho'i mai!" A woman's voice rose from the village, and the people turned to look at the base of the rise, where Sam's gilded hair glowed like a halo in the sun. Smiling wide and genuine, the people started towards where she stood, their hands waving and clapping in welcome.

But Carter's entire attention was on a particular figure—a tiny blur of brown skin and black curls. Pulling free from a white haired tutu, the girl shoved her way through a group of young men, and then around a knot of women. On bare feet, she bounded through the grass, kapa skirt tied around her waist, her little hands balled into fists.

Two steps. Sam took two steps forward, bending only long enough to drop her weapon to the ground before reaching out and catching the child as she hurtled herself into the Major's arms. Clasping her hands and legs tightly around Sam's body, the little girl squealed with delight, her teeth brilliant against the dusky bronze of her cheeks. "Nohea! Ho'ina!"

"Ani!" Sam's smile deepened when the girl pressed her nose to Sam's, rubbing gently from side to side.

"Nohea." The little girl leaned back and caught Sam's face between her chubby little hands. "Ho'i mai."

"Of course I came back." Sam tilted her head to one side, golden brows raised. "I missed you."

Ani's dimples deepened as she patted Sam's face. "Aloha kaua, Nohea."

With a contented sigh, Sam gathered the child close, landing a kiss on her cheek before burying her face into the girl's wiry curls. "Aloha, Ani."

-OOOOOOO-

**Glossary:**

**Hana hou:** Do it again

**Makahiki:** Celebration

**Halemaumau:** House of Everlasting Fire. A volcano crater, part of the Kilauea volcano on the Big Island of Hawaii. I borrowed the name for the volcano on this planet.

**Nohea o na wai**: Lady of the water. What the villagers called Sam when they found her.

**Kama** **pua'a:** Pig God, for the purposes of this story, a Goa'uld who had taken on the character of a gluttonous god of Hawaiian myth.

**Ku:** A secondary Goa'uld from the previous story who had taken on the persona of the Hawaiian war god.

**Lauhala:** A tree (pandanus tectorius) that has heavy, hearty leaves that are often stripped to use for weaving basketry, mats, and clothing.

**Aia la:** "Look!" Or, "There!"

**Ho'ea:** Come in

**Tutu:** Grandmother, or revered older person.

**Ho'i mai:** Return

**Aloha kaua:** Welcome

**Aloha**: Hello, Goodbye, I love you. It's a catch-all phrase used in various incarnations for most things.


	3. Ike

_**Paradise Reborn**_

_**'Ike**_

_(Knowledge)_

"You kids having fun yet?"

Sam didn't have to look around to know that the Colonel had stopped just behind her. She knelt on a finely woven lauhala mat beneath the large stand of trees just beyond the heiau, with Daniel sitting cross-legged next to her. Without breaking focus, she attached nylon cords to the metal hook on the device and tested it gently. "We're almost done, sir. This is the last one."

"He looks like a cabbage."

"Sir?"

"That scale. Looks like you're weighing produce."

With a patient smile, Sam extended the cords to their full length and tugged gently. "Well, that's kind of the inspiration behind this kind of portable device, I'm sure."

Raising her arms, she lifted her burden high enough off the ground so that the baby's entire weight was suspended from the hook. As the numbers flashed on the digital display, she turned her hands so that Daniel could see them.

Squinting through the late-afternoon shadow of the trees overhead, Daniel peered at the numbers. "Nine-thirteen?"

"Looks like it."

"So, which baby is this?" O'Neill stepped closer, crouching down to look at the infant. "He's a cute little sucker."

"His name is Aukai." Daniel jotted down the weight and then glanced up at the name at the top of the development chart. "And this is his mother, Uilima."

Jack craned his head to see the woman, who knelt just behind the archaeologist, her hands folded on her lap. Offering her a half-smile and a waggle of his fingertips, he outright grinned when Uilima giggled and ducked her head, hiding her face behind the dark fall of her hair.

"Stop flirting with her, Jack. You haven't seen her husband." Glancing up from the print out on the clipboard he held, Daniel glared up at the Colonel over the frames of his glasses. "He'd put you in the oven right beside that pig they're cooking."

"I'm not flirting, Daniel. I'm being friendly."

"Yeah, well, your 'friendly' is sometimes a little creepy." With a sigh, Daniel charted the weight on a graph and then turned the clipboard so that Sam could see. "The last weight on this one was just under seven pounds, so it looks like he's thriving." Turning towards the baby's mother, who knelt watching, a query in her expression. With a wide smile, he pointed at the baby and gave a thumb's up sign. "Maika'i loa."

Sam lowered her charge to the mat and waited as the child's mother lifted him out of the contraption before detaching the cording from the sling she'd rigged to the hand held scale. As the Major wrapped the cords into a neat circle, she watched as Uilima stood and fitted the baby to her shoulder, then turned to leave.

"Mahalo, Uilima." Sam called, and then raised a hand in farewell as the local woman turned to face her.

"Mahalo nui loa!" Uilima smiled again, a bit shy, her cheek brushing against the dark hair on the crown of her baby's head. "Malama pono!" And with that, she hurried off down the hill, past the heiau and towards her hale.

The Colonel nodded off in her wake. "So, he's healthy?"

"Yes, sir." Sam unzipped a case and inserted her scale into it. "They all are."

O'Neill frowned. "How many were there again?"

"Well, there were fourteen women that had been kidnapped by Kama pua'a." Clicking the scale 'off', Sam disengaged the hook on the bottom. "And they were all in various stages of pregnancy when they returned."

Daniel cleared his throat. "But DNA tests showed that eleven of those babies are directly linked genetically on both sides to the people of this village."

"So the other three were—"

"_Not_ genetically linked on both sides to these people." Sam bit her lips together before letting out a harsh breath.

"Meaning—"

"We've already gone over this, sir." Sam's voice came out more tersely than she'd intended. "It's the main reason that we're here."

"I know, Carter." The Colonel shifted, turning to sit so that he could see the valley splayed out before him. When he spoke again, he didn't look at the Major. "I'm just trying to figure out what the repercussions are. If all the babies seem to be healthy, I mean."

"Well, since we never found Kama pua'a's body, we can't be certain that he was the father." Daniel shoved the clipboard in his backpack and leaned forwards, balancing his elbows on his knees. "Same thing with Ku. There simply wasn't anything left once the mountain exploded."

"Three of the babies carry DNA from this people, and also some strange amalgamation of genetic code from elsewhere." Sam sat back on her heels, running a tense hand through her hair. "And, based on interviews with the women, it's known that Kama pua'a was intent upon impregnating some of the women he'd captured himself."

"Why?" The Colonel looked at Carter over his shoulder. "What could he have to gain from that? I thought that you only got those special kids from two snake heads—not just one Goa'uld and one normal person."

But it was Daniel who answered. "Who knows? All we got from them is that he took several as soon as it became apparent that they were pregnant, and then took three women later. We can only assume that he chose them specifically for the purpose of carrying his offspring."

"And the girl?" O'Neill frowned, looking down at his fingers. "Was she—"

"No." Carter ducked her head against the sudden images that arose in her mind—the grotesque form of the Pig God, his corpulent bulk looming over her. The first glimpse she'd gotten of the room where he'd held his slaves—the fountain in the center and the upholstered chaise lounges. And the chains. And the fear. And Kawehi, her young body draped in silk, groomed for Ku's reprehensible intentions. "No, sir. We got her out in time."

"And the women who weren't so lucky? How are they holding up?"

"From what we've been able to tell, they're okay. This people—their families—provide a remarkably strong support system." Daniel unfolded his body and stood, crossing the mat towards where his boots sat next to his jacket on the other side. "The two who were married returned to their husbands, who welcomed them back, and then accepted the offspring willingly. The third was younger and hadn't yet been promised to anyone, but her parents have stepped in and adopted the baby as their own. It's called 'hanai'."

"So, genetically—what are we talking here?" O'Neill looked to his right at Daniel, who was stepping gingerly into his boots. "These kids won't be—you know—some of those Har-whatever kids, will they?"

"Harcesis." Daniel shook his head. "And no. These infants aren't the genetic children of two Goa'ulded hosts. They're a strange mix that we've never encountered before—and we can't be certain how that will affect their growth."

"Or their psychological development." Sam balanced on one hand and transferred her weight onto her hip before rolling into a seated position. "We know that some people are predisposed through their genetics towards addictive or abusive personalities. What we don't know is whether character traits of the Goa'uld will somehow be transmitted through the normal human insemination process."

"We're assuming that's how it happened?" The Colonel leaned over and plucked a piece of grass out of the ground.

"Sir?"

He paused, twirling the stem in his fingers. "That it was the—_normal_ human process."

Daniel came around the mat to stop at Jack's side. "We know it was. The SGC sent a medical team back to check them all out. They were amazing forthright about it."

"So, no experimentations, no test tubes, no cloning machines."

"Nope." Sinking to the ground, Daniel leaned back on his hands. "Not as far as we can tell."

"So, that's a good thing, right? At least, if the babies seem normal—" His voice trailed off as he offered a one-shouldered shrug.

"How is it a good thing, sir?" Sam looked down to where her hands fisted in her lap. She could feel her jaw tense, hear the pulse beat in her ears. "It just means that they were violated by that monster. That he forced himself on them and into them. What good could possibly come from that?"

Instant silence. Sam watched as the Colonel turned his head and looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable in the dimness under the canopy of trees. For a beat, their gazes held, and she knew that he was gathering in more than she'd wanted to expose. Knew that he was quietly assessing her reactions, her responses, her emotions. She found herself averting her attention to anything else—her knee, her boot, the pattern of the woven lauhala strips in the mat beneath her—in order to lessen his study of her.

"Easy, Major." O'Neill spoke low, his voice calm. "I only meant that it could be that the kids are fine. Nothing more than normal human babies created by two normal human bodies."

"Yeah—mm—no, Jack." Drawing out each syllable, Daniel shook his head, his eyes narrow. "I'm not sure how likely that is. I'd venture to think that there are very real possibilities for some negative side effects."

"But for now, everything looks okay."

Daniel turned his head towards Sam, his gaze steady.

And for a moment, she chafed under his scrutiny, knowing that she'd misread the Colonel's statement. Finally, clamping down on the foolishness she felt, she pressed her lips together and nodded. "For now, yes. They look perfectly healthy."

"Well then." Daniel rose again, swiping at the grass sticking to his rear, he shook his pant legs down past his boots. "It looks like they've got things set up down there. They said they'd start at dusk."

Bending his head, the Colonel assessed the shadows around them. "There's still time, yet."

"Regardless. I'm going to leave my pack in our hale and head on over." He started to bend for his backpack, but straightened. "By the way, where's Teal'c?"

"Teal'c's been helping out." O'Neill waved a casual hand down slope. "He and I helped with wood for the fires, and then he went down to the tide pools and helped bring in some fish. When I left him, he was pounding poi. He really seemed to get into it."

Daniel smiled, cocking an eyebrow. "It's probably good stress relief."

"Something like that." The Colonel made an odd sound in the back of his throat. "Hey, Daniel."

"Yeah, Jack?"

"Why don't you go and see how things are going?"

"What for?"

"You know—just make sure that they don't need more of our help in these preparations."

A wrinkle formed over the bridge of Daniel's glasses. "Why would they need our help?"

"Because they might. Because it's neighborly. Because it's good manners to offer."

An awkward gap stretched in the conversation, until the archaeologist's eyes widened and he let out a small, "Oh."

"So, go on." The Colonel motioned with his flattened hand towards the group of people congregating in the largest expanse of meadow. "Make sure Teal'c's not getting himself into trouble."

"Right." Bending, Daniel slung his backpack over his shoulder. "Will do."

Sam busied herself with storing her gear in the bag that Janet had sent with her. Meticulously, she inserted each device into its pocket and then fastened the Velcro closures. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Daniel headed on down the hill, and as the Colonel pushed himself to his feet.

He hovered for a moment, then took a step backwards, beneath the tree, so that his heels landed on the mat. "Carter."

She waited too long before answering, and when she did, Sam was embarrassed at the weakness in her voice. "Yes, sir?"

"You know, I'm a little worried that you're still not over it."

Her lids closed slowly, and she pushed out a breath. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

"Major." The nomenclature seemed more like a rebuke. "Let's not do this. I know something's up. You know that you'll eventually tell me what it is. Why don't you just be up front with me sooner rather than later?"

Brows furrowed, she tilted her chin upward. He wasn't looking at her, but rather standing facing out towards the village, his large hands bracketed at his waist. His face was in profile, and yet, even in the shadows she could see his jaw tighten.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, is there? After all you went through here, I think that you have the right to be a little snippy."

"Snippy?"

He angled his head down to look at her. "Witchy?"

"That's not any better."

"Well, whatever." His brows rose briefly. "It's got to be tough. Coming back."

Considering this, she occupied her hands with folding the bag up and zipping the last closure. When she was finished, she paused, exhaling in a rapid _whoosh_. "I thought I was ready."

He waited. After a moment, when it became apparent that she wasn't going to elaborate, he shuffled his feet and turned his body towards her. "But?"

"But it's all just right _there_, you know? Beneath the beauty—there are these—" Failing, she raked her teeth across her bottom lip. Beneath her palms, the fabric of the medical kit felt harsh and unyielding.

And of course the Colonel would be able to put her thoughts into words. "Memories." The lines in his face deepened. "Really sucky memories."

Despite herself, she breathed out a laugh. "Exactly."

"And my talking about the outcomes couldn't possibly have helped."

"No." Her bangs fell down over her forehead as she shook her head. "Not really."

The sun had sunk down below the mountains to their backs, casting long shadows over the entire village. Eastward, down the slope, the ocean appeared to be a dark gray rather than the bright azure it had been that morning. Already, the moon lapped at the cresting waves, and even at this distance, the water appeared to hold glints of silver.

The trees—so green in the light of day, had turned dusky and dark with the evening. One by one, fires had started to flicker in the main clearing, with a single large bonfire up farther, halfway between the common houses and the rest of the village. The straw colored mats that served as walls for the hales captured the light of the flames, turning from taupe to a mottled orange and gold.

"Have you been back to any other place where a mission went wrong?"

"Not like this one." Sam pressed her hands against the case. "In our past missions, I've usually felt that, in the end, things have been resolved. But leaving these women this way—"

"It was their choice."

"I know that." Tilting her head to one side, she focused on the mat beneath her. "And, to be honest, I'm not sure I would have made a different one."

He processed that information. "Then what's your issue here?"

Sam met his eyes. "I just wish I could have done more. Could _do_ more."

The corner of his mouth edged upwards. "You took out their resident bad guys, Carter. You fulfilled their prophecy and freed their people. How much more do you want to do?"

She had no real answer for that, merely a vague twinge in the back of her heart. Slinging the strap of the medical bag over her shoulder, she braced herself on her fingertips and stood. "I don't know, sir."

One of his eyebrows quirked. "Well, when you do, let me know, and we'll work on it."

"I'll do that."

Voices wafted their ways uphill, and the staccato beat of a hardwood drum punctuated the evening. The last of the sun's rays sank over the mountain range—the moon lending its light from low on the far horizon. Sam breathed in the wind—the smells of vegetation, and the salt of the sea, and the heady aromas of the cooking food.

Hesitantly, she moved towards him, off the mat and out from under the tree.

The Colonel watched her until she stopped at his side. "So, I know you have to be hungry. Unless you've had more than that energy bar I saw you wolf down earlier."

"No, sir. And yes. I _am_ hungry."

"Then what do you say that we go and join the party?"

"All right."

"And Carter."

"Yes?"

"Relax. You're allowed to enjoy yourself." He turned his head to catch her eye. "This _is_ paradise after all."

"Yeah. Right. Paradise." Carter snorted derisively. "Just watch out for the snakes."

-OOOOOOO-

**Glossary:**

**Heiau**: altar, place of worship

**Maika'i loa:** Very good, healthy

**Mahalo**: Thank you

**Mahalo nui loa:** Thank you very much

**Malama pono:** Take care, or good luck.


	4. Makahiki

_**Paradise Reborn**_

_**Makahiki**_

_(Celebration)_

"Full?"

"You have no idea." The archaeologist rubbed his stomach with both hands.

Sam grinned at Daniel, her teeth a flash of white in the darkness. "Oh, I think I do."

"Have you had enough Teal'c?" The Colonel spoke without turning towards the Jaffa, who sat directly to his right.

"I am quite satisfied, O'Neill." Teal'c reached forward and set a wooden platter down on the mat they all shared. "I do not believe I could consume any more, in spite of its palatability."

"Me either." Jack thumped on his belly with his flattened hand. "If I did, I'd hurl."

"Nice, Jack. There's an image." Daniel rolled his eyes. Turning to his left, he nudged Sam. "You sure you don't want any more?"

"Nope." She shook her head. "I'm good."

Substantially more than just _good_. Total satisfaction. That's what Sam felt. More than the food, or the entertainment, or the sweet breeze floating around her. She felt complete for the first time in ages.

A pleasant warmth spread through her, radiating from her over-full stomach and creeping through her body to rest in the fingers that played absently with the hair on the child laying halfway on her lap.

She couldn't even guess at the time—the moon had long-since followed the sun down behind the mountains in the west, and a faint blush of pink hinted at the dawn within a riot of clouds low in the east. And still the celebration continued.

Sam sighed, her attention drawn from the men gathering near the embers of the bonfire to the child who snored softly on her lap. Ani had fallen asleep hours ago—just after she'd finished her share of the feast. Her mother had tried to come and collect her, but Sam had waved the local woman away with a contented sigh.

"Is she too heavy for you, Nohea?"

Carter smiled. Even though she'd urged Kawehi to call her by her given name, the locals' original name for her had stuck. As a matter of fact, it seemed to be the name that the entire village preferred, largely due, she suspected, to the fact that Tutu Mahina adamantly refused to call her anything else. And that woman was truly a force to be reckoned with.

Because even though Aki was the acknowledged chief of the village, the person that everyone looked to for everyday guidance was the stout healer who somehow managed to see everything through her milky, useless eyes.

Ani stirred on Sam's lap, turning her face, shoving the mass of tangled curls off her sweaty cheek with chubby fingers. Looking down at her, Sam couldn't quite keep from feeling a surge of something protective course through her. A desire to keep this child—this people—safe from that which would do it harm.

Daniel had told her once that certain groups of people believed that if you saved someone's life, then you took responsibility for them. Sam wondered if that's what she was feeling—that because she had once thrown herself into the fray, fighting for this peoples' right to be free of slavery and abuse, that she now took some sense of responsibility for them. If so, she wasn't certain that she minded, anymore. Not if she could safe-guard this innocence.

Heavy? Not a bit.

"No. Thank you, Kawehi." Turning, Carter could just make out the older girl's features in the darkness. "It's not often that we get to just relax."

"And even less often that we get to be around kids." Daniel spoke from Sam's right. Leaning to see around her, he tilted his head down to look over the tops of his glasses. "Thank you again for inviting us, Kawehi. I understand that you were the one that asked Aki to send the message with the other team."

"Yes." Kawehi pushed her long hair back over her shoulder. "I believed that Nohea should be here for the occasion of Makahiki. She is the one that freed us from Kama pua'a."

"I didn't do it by myself, Kawehi." Sam threaded her fingers in Ani's curls, combing them back out again slowly. "And it didn't go off completely as planned."

Somehow, the teenager understood. "My brother's death was not your kuleana, Nohea. And his spirit still watches me from lani kua ka'a. His 'uhane does not leave me. Nor does his mana."

"I still feel responsible."

"Please do not. We celebrate his life as we celebrate the harvest." She lifted her body onto her knees. "Sit. Eat. Enjoy the ha'a. It is time for the kane of Kahi o laule'a to hail the rising of the sun."

"Just the men?" The Colonel interjected. "Did I miss something?"

"Yeah—she must have explained that while you were helping elsewhere." Daniel wiggled around, fitting his fingertips under his glasses to rub at his eyes. "Only the men dance. Women aren't allowed."

"Not allowed?" O'Neill frowned. "Why not?"

Sam leaned over Ani to see the Colonel. "Tradition."

"Tradition?"

"Jack, are you going to repeat everything that everyone else says?" Daniel shoved a platter of fruit away. "Because if you are—"

"No." Groaning, the Colonel pulled himself upright. "I was just looking forward to that part of the entertainment."

"Because the mountainous amount of food you consumed wasn't enough for you?"

"Can it, Daniel."

"I believe that O'Neill was indeed highly anticipatory of observing the women dance." Teal'c intoned from the edge of the mat. "He has mentioned it several times in the past few days."

"Can it, Teal'c."

"I am merely stating fact, O'Neill." The corner of the Jaffa's mouth tilted upward. "Did you not join with me in order to view _Blue Hawaii_? You mentioned that you enjoyed the musical acumen of Elvis Presley far less than the agility of the dancers."

"Yeah. And?" The Colonel grimaced over at his friend. "So stop it, already."

But Teal'c's response was interrupted as a sudden shower of embers drew their attention back towards the bonfire, where several of the local men had piled more wood on the blaze. Two lines of men wound their way through the crowd, their bodies glistening with coconut oil, and bare but for intricately wound loincloths. As they arranged themselves in the center of the clearing, an older man, draped in heavily decorated kapa, emerged from the crowd and sat down on a mat that had been placed there for him. He held a large hollow gourd, and in the firelight, Sam could see heavy tattoos on his arms and face.

"He is the kumu—the teacher." Kawehi explained, her voice quiet. "He will chant and play the ipu while the men perform the ha'a."

Daniel leaned his elbows on his knees. "And this dance is to honor Lono?"

"To petition him, and our ancestors." Kawehi sat back on her heels, her face glowing in the firelight. "Lono is the god of the harvest, of rainfall, of birth. This is the beginning of the new year, the time when the newest keiki are presented to Lono for his blessing. The time when we ask his kokua to have a plentiful year, even as we ask for his forgiveness for our wrongs."

"And does it work?" O'Neill's tone was questioning more than skeptical.

Kawehi's smile widened. "Colonel Jack—we have never felt hunger. Even while Kama pua'a ruled over us, Lono blessed us with health and strength."

With a long, heavily modulated tone, the kumu called the crowd to attention. Raising his hands to the heavens, he lowered them slowly to rest on the gourd. Grasping it in one hand, he thrummed it with the fingers of the other before dramatically raising his head and breathing deeply.

_"'Auhea wale 'oe!"_

The crowd fell silent, craning to see the kumu as he splayed his hands on the ipu. After a moment, he began to chant, beating a complex rhythm on the gourd.

_"'Auhea wale 'oe!"_

Sam looked down at the lines of men, standing perfectly still, their arms outstretched, their heads bowed. Leaning towards Kawehi, she kept her voice a whisper. "What's the kumu saying?"

The girl moved close, translating as the kumu continued.

_"E kulou mai e na lani!"_

"Bend down, o heavens!"

She paused, and Sam turned her attention back to the halau, watching in fascination as the men whirled to life, their bronzed bodies moving in perfect unison.

_"E ho'olohe mai e ka honua_

_E haliu mai ho'i e na kukulu!"_

"Listen, o earth.

Listen o pillars of heaven."

"_Na 'aumakua i ka hikina a ka la a i kaulana_

_A mai kela pe'a kapu a keia pe'a kapu."_

"O family god at the sun rising and resting

From that sacred border to this sacred border."

_"Eia ke alana a me ka mohai_

_E mohai pilikia i ke akua."_

"Here are our offerings and sacrifices.

A troubled sacrifice to the gods."

The men suddenly stilled, and the kumu repeated his call. "'Auhea wale 'oe!"

Sam jumped, surprised when the crowd repeated his call back to him. Then, with a final staccato beat on his ipu, he dismissed the dancers, and set the gourd onto the mat in front of him.

"And now it is finished. Our petition has been made. We must now wait to see if it is enough, or if Lono requires more of us." Kawehi stood. Bending, she lifted Ani into her arms, fitting the little girl's face against her shoulder. "I will take her to her mother. You should go and rest. Tomorrow is the day of games."

"Thank you for translating."

"He me iki ia." Kawehi spoke over Ani's curls. "It was no difficulty. Sleep well, Nohea." And then she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Watching her go, Daniel knelt and then pushed himself upright. "Well, I guess that's a night."

Sam reached behind her and grasped her holstered zat. With a few economical twists, she wrapped the nylon webbing of the straps around her hand before standing. "You guys have everything you need?"

"Yep." The Colonel held out an arm to Teal'c who grasped it and pulled him up. Turning, he peered through the darkness at the Major. "Although I'm a little antsy about you having to stay so far from us."

Sam frowned. "Why, sir?"

"Well, the last time you were off on your own, you got kidnapped and sold to Gunga Din."

"Turghan, sir." She couldn't help the smile that curved her lips. "The chief's name was Turghan. And I doubt that we'll run into the same problems here."

"Yes. But still." He nodded towards the zat she held in her hand. "Keep your weapon handy."

"Come on, Jack." Daniel groaned, taking his glasses off and cleaning them on the hem of his t-shirt. "These people practically worship her. She'll be fine. Besides. She's staying with Mahina. Everyone's half-afraid of that woman.

Sam looked around, gathering her bearings. The fire had been built just higher than the center of the meadow, and Mahina's hale, where Sam had already deposited her belongings, was near the bottom end of the clearing. The Colonel, Daniel, and Teal'c had been given the larger of the two common houses as quarters, but that was exactly on the other side of the village, up near the heiau. She turned back towards her team. "I'd better go, sir. I'm really pretty tired."

"You know, on second thought, maybe we will walk with you." Daniel edged around Jack, coming to a stop at her side. "I need to work a few kinks out, anyway."

"Daniel, really. It's not necessary."

"Humor the boy, Major." O'Neill started forward, followed closely by Teal'c. "He's feeling gentlemanly."

With a sigh, she nodded and waved her empty hand in the basic direction of the house. "All right then. It's over there."

The crowd had mostly cleared out, disappearing into their residences without fanfare or fuss. The meadow felt cooler without the mass of humanity, although some still lingered. A small group of young women waited nearby, watching her, and Sam realized with a twinge of guilt that they were waiting for them to leave.

"I think they're waiting for us to go before cleaning up." Sam indicated the group with a tiny nod. Turning towards the ocean side of the clearing, she looked over her shoulder at her team. "So if you're coming with—"

"We're coming with." The Colonel started after her. After a few steps, he angled a look at Daniel. "So, tomorrow there are games?"

"Yeah—a variety of them." Daniel sounded as enthusiastic as he was tired. "I asked Aki about them earlier. They sounded fascinating."

"Chess? Backgammon—"

"Sir." Squelching a grin, Sam looked to her right, where the Colonel strode alongside her.

"Twister?" His attempt at appearing innocent failed, so he settled for smiling back at her.

"No, Jack." Daniel shook his head. "More like tug of war, shot put, and distance contests with spear throwing."

"There will also be tests of balance and agility." Teal'c spoke from slightly behind them. "I have been greatly anticipating what the local man Ikaika calls Lele Pahu."

"Cliff diving." Daniel nodded. "That sounded really cool. And there's also a game that's sort of like lawn bowling. Ulu something—I didn't quite catch the whole name."

"So it should be fun." Jack shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "And that's why we need to hit the hay."

They'd arrived at Tutu Mahina's hale. Average sized, it was built up on a stone base, with fine mats for walls and a heavily thatched roof. Alongside the stone steps, a length of well-beaten log sat amid the grass, with an instrument that looked like a rolling pin leaning against it. A neat stack of baskets sat just to one side of the door, and a stone mortar and pestle on the other.

O'Neill looked up at the doorway, where the mat had been drawn aside in invitation. "I think it's past your curfew. You don't want to get grounded."

"Right." Sam glanced up into the hale, but didn't notice any movement inside it. "I think I'll be okay. Thanks for the company."

"See you in the morning." Daniel lifted his hand in farewell.

"It'd tell you to sleep tight, but—" The Colonel shrugged.

"Yes sir. That would be a cliche."

"Right. Okay then." Turning, Jack sighed. "Back on up the hill for us."

They turned and headed along the trail that had been carved into the grass by countless trips in the same direction. But O'Neill turned about a dozen feet away.

"Hey, Major."

"Yes, sir?"

"I've been thinking about the dancing thing."

"What dancing thing?"

"How it can just be the guys that do it."

Nodding, Sam raised a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. "What about it?"

"Well, you being a feminist and all—" He paused, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Don't you think that the women should have the same rights as the menfolk?"

She knew he couldn't see her roll her eyes, so she felt free to do it before answering him. "Well, I guess I can just appreciate the cultural importance of the ha'a. Who am I impose my own social standards onto another culture?"

"There's that." The Colonel's teeth glinted in the dimness. "Although it didn't bother you as you kicked that Genghis Khan guy to the curb."

"Turghan, sir." She took a step forward. "It was Turghan. And I didn't find much about _his_ culture appreciable."

"But those guys tonight?"

"Oh, I think she found them appreciable, Jack." Daniel had halted a few steps away from the Colonel. "Even _I _found them appreciable, and I'm a dude."

"Is that so?" Speaking to Sam rather than answering Daniel, O'Neill's eyebrows drifted upwards. "So all those progressive ideals—"

"Like I said." She shrugged. "I was merely appreciating a proud, beautiful group of people as they expressed themselves and their culture through their vital, powerful performance."

"A proud, _beautiful_ people." His emphasis carried a tone of amusement.

"Come on, Jack." Daniel's voice carried a vast amount of patience.

But the Colonel ignored the archaeologist. "A proud, beautiful people dancing around. Wearing nothing but loincloths and oil."

Sam grinned. "Exactly."

"I see." The early morning light caught at his graying hair as he nodded. "That makes perfect sense."

"Let's go, Jack." Daniel had already reached the next hale, Teal'c at his side.

"I'm coming!" Jack waved to a random spot behind him. "So, g'night, Carter."

A terse, husky sigh sounded from within the hale behind Sam. Turning, she caught sight of Mahina in the doorway, kapa slung low around her ample waist, her dark, silver-strewn hair swirling around her bare shoulders and torso. Ample breasts bouncing, she shooed at the Colonel with both hands. "Hele aku! Hele pela i keia manawa!"

"Okay, then." Throwing up his hands in mock resignation, he smiled. 'I just got told. I'm going."

Mahina hissed, then made a clucking sound deep in her throat. Emerging fully from the doorway, she held out an expectant hand towards Sam. "Komo mai, Nohea. Aumoe. Hi'olani."

Sam climbed the steps towards the older woman. Throwing a look over her shoulder at her departing team, she paused before adding, "Good night, sir."

-OOOOOOO-

Mahina had prepared a pallet for her. Standing beside it, Sam undressed as the older woman lowered the mat at the door. Stripping off her BDU blouse and pants, she wadded them into a pillow of sorts, and then secreted the zat beneath the bundle at the head of her makeshift bed. She'd long-since taken to wearing boxers off world—and she kept her tee-shirt on, too, as she laid herself down on the pallet.

Even after so long, it felt familiar to be here, in this hut, with the blind woman. Mahina's motions were precise—practiced—as she secured the mat and turned towards where Sam was lying. Graceful in spite of her size, she took the few steps towards Sam's pallet and knelt.

"Pehea 'oe, keiki?" Reaching out, Mahina found Sam's shoulder, then traced upwards towards her head. With economical movements of her strong fingers, she examined the Major's scalp, then gave a satisfied nod. "Kohi 'e."

Sam lifted a hand to rest on the older woman's arm. "I'm fine, Mahina."

But the older woman wasn't deterred. Having satisfied herself that Sam's head had healed properly, she worked her way downward to examine first the Major's ribs, and then the soles of her feet. Apparently pleased, she slapped a broad hand on Sam's calf and then turned her body back towards the head of the bed. Leaning over, she touched her forehead to Sam's, her hands dark against the bright gold of Sam's hair. "Moe. Aloha auinapo."

Standing, the older woman crossed to her own mat, just a few feet away. She stripped off her kapa skirt, shaking it out. Kneeling first, she lay down on her back, drawing the kapa over her body like a sheet before folding her arms across her midsection. Finally, her voice carrying a tone of wearniness, the healer sighed and closed her cloudy eyes.

"Moe, Nohea."

"Good night, Mahina." Sam rolled onto her side, smiling to herself as the older woman's snores soon filled the quiet of the hale.

She struggled to sleep, and once she'd finally drifted off, she dreamed of ghostly figures—the vast expanse of Kama pua'a, the handsome visage of Ku. Falling walls and earthquakes and Mano being buried in the rubble.

Water, rain, heavy and cold, and the rush of an unexpected flood. Pain, and exhaustion, and fear. Kawehi's loud wails, the girl's fingers bloody as she dug through the debris in a desperate, doomed attempt to save her brother. Screams. Cries. Pounding rain. Relentless, frigid, cruelty.

At first she thought that the cries were in her dreams—that the faint light streaming in through the gaps in the walls was a reflection of the moonlight on the ocean from her memory. Sam stirred, stiff, awkward, pressing her eyelids more tightly. She tried to return to sleep, but soon realized the impossibility of that endeavor. She was well and truly awake.

Cracking her eyes open, Sam looked for Mahina, only to discover the healer's bed empty, the kapa she'd thrown over herself the night before, was gone.

The light coming in through the mats was hazy and gray. And the air lay thick around her—damp and chilled—evidence that the rain Sam thought she'd dreamt was falling in earnest. She could hear it landing on the thatch of the hale's roof, and striking with heavy _thwacks_ on the mat walls.

And the cries. Keening screams—desperate and tortured—penetrating.

_Not_ Kawehi's cries from Sam's dream—these were real, and now.

Sam's blood turned cold as she rose, reaching for her zat.

Something was terribly wrong.

-OOOOOOO-

**Glossary**

Kuleana—responsibility

Lani kua ka'a—heaven

'Uhane—spirit/soul

Mana—power

Ha'a—dance. The word 'hula' is a relatively modern term.

Kane—man/men

Kahi o laule'a—Place of Peace

Kumu—a teacher or a wise person.

Ipu—a hollowed-out gourd, used as a drum for dance and chant.

Keiki—child/children

Kokua—help

'Auhea wale 'oe!—Sort of a catch-all phrase for "Hey—listen up", among other things.

He me iki ia—It was a small thing (like the English, "it was no big deal" in response to "thank you")

Lele pahu—Cliff diving

Ulu—breadfruit, also any round item such as a head or a rock. In this case, it would be a rounded stone ball.

Hele aku—Go away

Hele pela i keia manawa—Shoo! Scat! Get out of here!

Komo mai—Come in

Aumoe—it's late

Hi'olani—Sleep, relax, or rest

Pehea 'oe, keiki—How are you, child?

Kohi 'e—already healed

Moe—sleep

Aloha auinapo—good night (specifically late at night—after midnight)

Just a little bit about the language. Hawaiian vowels mostly sound like the short English vowel sounds—a (ah) e (ay) i (ee) o (oh) and u (oo). Consonants are the same as in English, although "w" is sometimes said as a "w" and sometimes as a "v"—it depends on the accompanying vowels. In general, the accents are on the second to the last syllable of the word. This rule is flagrantly broken, and I confess that I am not even attempting to include the accent marks that probably should be on some words. An apostrophe is a glottal stop—like the break in speech when you say, "Uh-oh."

So, for example, the phrase Mahina says for "Shoo!" would be pronounced,

Hele pela i keia manawa

_Hay-lay pay-lah ee kay-ee-ah mah-nah-wah._

I am not fluent in Hawaiian, although I speak a mean Pidgin (Hawaiian Creole English), and I am not using the most common forms of the words that I'm writing.

The chant that the kumu pronounces is traditional. I found it on various websites in exactly the same form, so I'm fairly sure that it's been passed down through the generations. Kawehi's translation is accurate.

Should you have any more questions, feel free to PM me. I don't bite, much.

Thanks!


	5. Huaka'i Po

**Huaka'i Po**

(Night Marchers)

Sam rolled off the mat, grabbing her pants and pulling them on. Flicking the buttons closed, she snagged her zat out from under her still-wadded up blouse, making her way towards the door as she tore open the holster's Velcro closure. Taking the steps two at a time, she pulled the weapon free and pressed the control that raised its head into position. Careful, cautious, her heart pounding, she made her way around the hale just beyond Mahina's house, the rain-saturated grass cool and slick beneath her bare feet.

At the edge of the clearing, she skidded to a halt. The meadow teemed with people—largely congregated in small groups of two or three scattered here and there amid the tall grasses. But the forlorn cries came from a figure lying prone in the center of the common area, her sodden hair flowing about her body like a river of oil. The other villagers stood back, watching, their expressions etched with concern and confusion. Except for the heartwrenching sobbing of the woman, the only other sound came from the relentless fall of rain on thatched roofs and hard-packed dirt paths.

Sam hesitated briefly, then started forward, only to be stopped by a harsh whisper.

"Nohea! Kapu!"

Turning, Sam found Kawehi standing just behind her. "What's going on? What's wrong with that woman? Does she need help?"

"No." The teenager shook her head, stepping forward to come to a stop next to the Major. "It is forbidden to approach her."

Sam frowned. "Why?"

"She is kapu." Kawehi nodded into the clearing, where the woman's weeping had subsided into a rhythmic moan. "Her offering to Lono has been rejected."

"I'm sorry, Kawehi." Sam ran a hand through her hair, sending a spray of droplets down her neck. "But I don't understand."

Kawehi's dark eyes skittered towards the woman in the field, then back to meet Sam's blue ones. "It is forbidden to help her. Forbidden to go to her."

"Why?" Sam knew that her words reeked of her impatience, but she didn't really care. "What's going on?"

"Come!" With an exasperated sigh, the girl reached out and seized Sam's hand. Giving it a brisk tug, she started around the meadow, deliberately keeping her gaze away from the center of the field and its single inhabitant as she pulled the Major along in her wake.

Sam couldn't help but persist. "Where are we going?"

"Mahina sent me for you. She will explain."

"Why?" But she received no answer. She hastened her pace, pulling directly up alongside the younger woman. Frustrated, Sam walked in silence in a wide skirt of the meadow and up towards the heiau. As they neared the smaller of the two common houses, she could just make out a figure standing in the doorway of the hale. Closer, and she recognized the figure as Mahina. Kawehi pulled to an abrupt halt.

"She waits for you." Casting Sam a shuttered look, Kawehi gestured towards the hale. "Mahina will explain."

"Kawehi—"

"Go, please." The girl lowered her chin, wiping at her nose with the back of her hand. "It is not my place to interfere."

"But—"

"I will return to you when I am needed." Kawehi took a few steps backward. With a long, last look at Sam, she whirled and ran, disappearing into the storm.

Sam shivered, but knew that the chill in her bones had nothing to do with the rain. It was eerie—usually the village was so full of life and warmth, and now it held all the welcome of a morgue. The morning's storm had not quelled the natural gregarious nature of the people, but _something_ had. She searched the faces of the people in the clearing and found them to be exuding worry, fright, and concern. The villagers spoke to each other in shocked whispers, comforted each other, leaned on one another as if the grief in their midst was shared rather than confined to the woman upon whom they focused. Yet they still didn't go to her.

"Carter!"

Jerked from her thoughts, Sam twisted to see the Colonel standing next to Mahina in the doorway of the hale. Hat pulled down low over his brows, his face was blank—intentionally careful.

Sam didn't wave. With a nod in his direction, she picked a careful path towards the hale. The grass was shorter up near these frequently-used areas, and in some places non-existent. Mud squished up between her toes as she hurried towards the common house, and she paused at the side of the structure to wipe her feet in the wet grass under the eaves.

"Forget something?"

Mahina had retreated into the relative dryness of the hale, but the Colonel remained in the door way. Leaning against the pole that served as a jamb, he was playing with the Velcro flap over his watch face as he watched her try to clean her feet.

"I heard the screaming, sir." Glancing sideways at him, she frowned. "Shoes seemed like a secondary issue at the time."

"Did you see who it was?"

"I didn't recognize her." She raised a foot to peer at the bottom of it. "And Kawehi wouldn't tell me. She just said that the woman was kapu."

"Forbidden." The Colonel's lips thinned. "And it's Uilima. You weighed her baby yesterday."

Sam stilled. It felt as if all the air had been summarily sucked out of her lungs. She clenched her hands, digging her fingernails into her palms, drawing in a breath past the painful tightness in her throat. Willing her voice to sound normal, she ran a dry tongue across her lips and glanced up at O'Neill. "Aukai. Wasn't he one of—"

"The pig god's kids."

Sam turned, squinting through the rain at the woman still lying alone in the grass. With a slight shake of her head, she glanced back over her shoulder at O'Neill. "What did she do?"

"That, I'm not so sure about." The Colonel took a cautious step outside the hale, coming to a stop at the corner. Close behind Sam, his voice drifted towards her softly. "Daniel's been trying to figure it out for a while."

Voices rose and then fell off within the common house, and O'Neill looked backward meaningfully. "They've been debating things for the better part of an hour."

"Who?"

"Aki, Mahina, the other village leaders." He frowned. "And that kumu guy that pounded on the ipu at the dance last night."

"He seems to be some sort of a spiritual leader."

"Kahuna." The Colonel blew out a frustrated sigh. "It's called a kahuna."

"Well, whatever." Sam stilled in her motions, but persisted in staring at her feet. "Someone should help that woman up."

"What happened to all that tolerance from last night?" His smile lacked humor. "You know, the vaunted respect for their ways that makes it okay that only the guys got to dance?"

"Sir." Sam allowed herself a look at him. "That's hardly the same."

"It's their culture."

She heard, rather than saw his shrug, answering him with bluntness of her own. "It's cruel."

"I'd say that you're right." He shoved his hands into his pockets. "But it's their decision, isn't it?"

"Someone should help her." Sam tightened her fingers around the nylon holster straps of the zat she still held. "Whatever she's done, it's inhumane to just sit here and let her mourn alone."

"Is that what she's doing?"

"It seems like it."

"Yeah. I guess." He cleared his throat. "Although this place is rarely exactly what it seems."

She met his gaze fully. Held it as a raindrop made its way free from her hair and meandered its way down her forehead to fall to the side of her nose and onto her lip. She wiped it away with a harsh hand, making a small sound that could have been a cough. "I guess."

A faint rustle broke the moment. The Colonel turned, angling outward for Carter to see, as well. Mahina stood in the doorway, her milky eyes wide, her sturdy hand outstretched. "Nohea. Konela. Kokua mai."

Jack passed a glance at Sam before stepping towards the healer. Reaching out, he guided her hand to his forearm, and then wrapped her fingers around his wrist. "There you go, Mahina."

"Mahalo." She clasped his arm tightly, patting his shoulder with her other hand. "Hele. Wikiwiki."

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know." The Colonel shrugged with one shoulder. "But at this point, I'm like your shoes. Secondary."

Sam stood, puzzled, for a moment, before following Mahina and the Colonel back out into the rain. It had lessened somewhat, trailing off into a heavy sprinkle. She peeked at the sky above, hoping for a flash of blue, but finding only dark, bleak clouds hovering low overhead, and flashes of what looked like lightning far off over the treeline and out towards the ocean. Setting her jaw, she steered herself along behind O'Neill and the healer, down through the meadow, to where Uilima still lay sprawled in the green.

"Wahine! Pilikia!" Mahina made her way unerringly towards the weeping woman, stopping a foot or so away. Bending, she laid a heavy hand on the woman's slick back, tracing upwards until her fingers tangled in the young woman's hair. "Ala!"

"Aia keiki?" The woman on the ground rolled herself to one side. The tears running down her face mixed with the drizzling rain as she sobbed. "Aia keiki Aukai?"

"Auwe!" Mahina's hand gently shoved back the heavy mass of wet hair from the young woman's face. "He aha ka mea i hana 'ia?"

Footsteps in the grass beside her drew Sam's attention. She looked over to see Kawehi approaching—her posture stiff and awkward. Her dark eyes churned with more than just worry, and Sam realized that the girl was terrified.

"What's happening, Kawehi?" Sam ducked her head. "Are you all right?"

"They sent me to help you, Nohea." She edged closer, her voice little more than a whisper. "I am to translate."

"Who sent you?" Sam followed the girl's gaze up the hill, to where the kumu, Aki, and several others of the villagers were making their way through the wet grass. Just behind them, their faces grim, walked Daniel and Teal'c. "Aki? The kumu?"

"The kumu is very angry." The young woman ducked her chin as she spoke. "He and Mahina have argued."

Sam watched as the healer balanced herself on the ground and knelt. Her strong hands framed Uilima's face, even as the younger woman spoke in stilted, broken tones. Sam shoved her wet hair back behind her ear, leaning closer to Kawehi. "What are they saying?"

The conversation had become heated. Uilima spoke quickly, her hands punctuating her words. Listening closely, blind eyes half-closed, Mahina had lowered her head towards Uilima's, her body still.

Kawehi breathed deeply. "Uilima is saying that she returned to her hale last night after the ha'a. She laid Aukai on the mat next to her. They fell asleep quickly." Pausing, the young woman frowned as she listened. "She says she rested poorly, and she had nightmares. In one dream, she lay on the beach, face pressed in the sand, as a ghost light drifted past. She heard her baby cry out and woke to find him in distress. She gave him her breast, and he fell back to sleep."

Uilima paused for a moment, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. Her tears had begun again in earnest, but she continued through their fall.

"She returned to sleep, and dreamed again of the ghost light. She was again on the beach, and this time, she looked up at the light and saw figures within it. Men. Warriors. Whose bodies were made of moonbeams made solid." Kawehi reached out and grasped Sam's hand. "In their arms, they carried three children—Aukai and the other two keiki pua'a. Uilima says she tried to cry out, but one of them raised his hand and a blue light sprang from it and she knew no more. When she woke, her child was gone."

Crumpling against Mahina, Uilima fell silent. In a sharp burst of her native tongue, Mahina threw an order into the crowd, and a boy, nearer than the rest of the villagers, spun and ran upwards, towards a small circlet of hales.

"He is to fetch Uilima's husband." Kawehi adjusted the kapa on her shoulder. "Mahina has said that she must return home."

"Are all three of the babies missing?" The Colonel had made his way to stand directly behind Sam. "Have the other women been contacted?"

"I don't know, Colonel Jack." The teenager turned to look at him.

"The answer is yes, and yes." Daniel had rounded the crowd of men and now stopped at Sam's side while Teal'c halted next to O'Neill. "All three of them. Puamaile, Aukai, and Kamea. The other mothers, Moana and Hina, were found unconscious, the babies gone. They're recovering now."

"And does anyone have a clue what's happening?" Jack's scowl deepened.

"I do." Kawehi raised a fist to her lips. Softly, turning so as not to be over heard, she met their eyes. "He has rejected us."

"Who?"

"Lono." She shoved her sodden hair back behind her ear with a trembling hand. "We presented our pleas to him last night—asked for his blessing on us and on our families."

"Right." Sam nodded, searching her memories of the night before for the correct reference. "The ha'a. That was the dance where the men of the village expressed their reverence to Lono and asked for his help."

"And presented our children—our keiki—to him."

"I remember." Sam shook her head. "But what does that have to do with these missing children?"

"Because he has rejected them." Her lips quivered. "Lono has found them unworthy of his blessing."

Sam grimaced, casting a look at her teammates before reaching out and setting a comforting hand on the girl's arm. "What do you mean, Kawehi? Why has he found them unworthy?"

The teenager's face fell, and she raised a hand to wipe at her nose again. "When you and Colonel Jack and Daniel and Teal'c came to Halemaumau and brought me back, you also rescued other women."

"Yes." Sam nodded. "Fourteen of them."

Kawehi met Sam's eyes. "In the months since you left, the women have all given birth. Their children were healthy, and strong."

"Of this we are aware." Teal'c inclined his head. "Major Carter had explicit orders from our medical personnel to verify their continuing wellbeing during our visit here."

The girl leaned closer, gripping Sam's forearm for balance—and, perhaps, for support. "After the ha'a, we retired to our hales, to our families. Only to wake to find that these children, presented to Lono yesterday, have been taken from our village."

"And?"

"Nohea, there is only one reason."

But it was the Colonel that asked. "Okay. So what is it?"

"Huaka'i po." The words came out as a whisper, Kawehi's dark eyes darting up towards the kumu. "If Lono found them unworthy, he would have sent the Huaka'i po to take them away."

Daniel and the Colonel exchanged a meaningful look. Grimacing, his mouth tight, Daniel fixed his focus on the girl. "Kawehi," he began. "Who are the Huaka'i po?"

Small, nimble fingers tightened painfully on Sam's arm. Swallowing a cry, Kawehi ducked her head. "They are the Night Marchers. Warriors who have already entered their great rest. They walk the earth during Lono's moon, and take away the spirits of those who are unworthy, or those who are evil."

Daniel's eyes flew wide, then narrowed. "And Uilima believes she saw them last night."

Sam nodded. Turning her body, she angled herself towards her team, so that their bodies formed a tight circle. "That's what she said. She described them as having bodies like hardened moonbeams. When she looked at one, a blue light came from his hand and she lost consciousness."

"'Hardened moonbeams'." Jack shook his head. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It could be an explanation for something that Uilima didn't understand." Daniel braced his fingers on his hips. "Moonbeams are kind of silvery, right? Like steel. These people don't have any kind of metal, so if what she saw was made out of steel, she may not have the words to describe it."

"They have the 'Gate." Sam glanced up at the sky. The rain had nearly stopped, now. But the sun was still only a dull glow behind the multitudes of heavy, ugly clouds. "And they have the Al Kesh that we—uh—_acquired_ the last time we were here. They're both made of naqudah."

Jack pulled his hat off with a controlled jerk, rifling his hair around with his other hand before planting it back down. "Yeah, but—"

Teal'c interrupted with his customary matter-of-factness. "Both of which share a common color."

"You know, he's right?" Daniel pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. "They're both kind of a silvery gray."

"And the flash of light that Uilima saw?" Sam leaned further into the group, lowering her voice even more. "Blue light. From the palm of one of the apparition's hands."

Jack shifted on his feet, squeezing his eyes shut. "Why do I really not like the way this conversation's headed?"

Teal'c addressed the teenager, his face impassive. "Kawehilani. Please indicate to me which residence belongs to Uilima."

Sam laid a hand on Kawehi's arm. Nodding, she gave the girl a little squeeze. "Go. He just wants to look around."

With a hinted smile, Teal'c bowed slightly. "I would be much indebted to you."

After a brief hesitation, Kawehi acquiesced, stepping backwards out of the group and skirting past the Colonel and Daniel. As she reached Teal'c, he fell into step beside her, and they made their way quickly across the grass towards the opposite edge of the meadow.

Jack threw a look at them as they departed, then turned back towards the remainder of his team, his countenance hard. "So, Carter."

"Sir?"

"I _beg_ you to tell me that you weren't talking about what I think that you were talking about."

Conspicuously silent, she captured her top lip between her teeth.

He waited a few beats before clearing his throat meaningfully. "Because I really do not like what you were hinting at, there."

"Jack," Daniel removed his glasses, searching for a dry spot on his t-shirt. "Come on. They have people watching the 'Gate. They haven't seen anyone come through except for people from Earth."

"Still." The Colonel scuffed his boot on the ground, uprooting some grass, then smoothing it back with his toe. "We've seen it happen before, right? Bad guys just popping up out of nowhere?"

"There's no use borrowing trouble." Daniel shook his head, squinting. "Let's wait and see what Teal'c finds."

"I doubt there will be much, sir." Carter glanced off towards the sea, where the dark clouds seemed to be growing blacker by the minute. "The rain likely washed away any tracks or evidence. If there was any in the first place."

"And it looks like we're in for more." The Colonel swore under his breath. "I'm already soaked through. I don't know about you guys, but I'm a little rained out."

"Yes, sir." Sam shoved her hand through her hair, again, sending rivulets down her throat and back. "It'll make getting back to the 'Gate interesting."

"Probably won't be possible." Daniel shrugged. "Remember last time?"

O'Neill caught Carter's eye. At this distance, closer than when they'd been suspended from the bridge. She remembered the strength of his fingers, digging into her arm, and the surge of resignation she'd felt when she'd let go. And his scream, as it had echoed down the gulley. His anger, her fear, his pain. Hers. The certainty she'd felt that she was going to die. Her acceptance of that. Yes. She remembered. They both did.

The Colonel retreated first, looking out, over Daniel's head, towards the gray chop of the sea. "Yes. Thank you, Daniel. Let's not trip down that memory mine-field again."

"Well, then." Oblivious, the archaeologist continued. "I'm not sure that we could get through those wash-outs again. With this storm, they're probably flowing freely by now."

"That would make back-up practically impossible, sir."

O'Neill muddled that over for a moment. "If it comes to that."

"We don't know what's happening." Daniel gave up and folded his glasses, stowing them in the pocket of his shirt. "It could be that this is all a misunderstanding. I mean—think about it. It doesn't make any sense for anyone to kidnap infants. They wouldn't be of any possible use."

"Unless someone wanted to get rid of them."

"But why them, Sam? Why those particular babies?"

Carter paused in the act of wrenching water out of the hem of her t-shirt. "You heard what they called them, Daniel. Which babies were taken."

"Right. Keiki pua'a. Children of the pig."

"So, that means something." O'Neill removed his hat again, folding the brim and shoving it into his back pocket.

"But what?" Sam asked it more of herself than of her companions. "I haven't seen any evidence at all that there's animosity towards them or their mothers, regardless of the name."

Catching a movement out of the corner of her eye, Sam looked behind her to see a large local man bending next to Uilima. At Mahina's nod, he scooped her up and rose, adjusting her in his arms as he turned around. Silent, with barely a look at his wife, he carried her off towards their hale.

"Well, we're not getting anything done just standing here." Daniel scratched at his head with both hands, flinging droplets of water out of his hair. "Let's go see if Teal'c has found anything."

They set off together, purposefully avoiding the kumu and his group. The conversation coming out of it was intense, and Sam flicked a glance at Daniel, a frown creasing her expression. Heading up towards the common houses, they veered sideways at a large grouping of hales. Surrounding this particular community was a sizable stand of old-growth ironwoods. Emerging from beneath their canopy, Kawehi trailed closely behind Teal'c, whose face had grown hard.

The Colonel spoke as soon as they were close enough to use regular tones. "So. Nothing, right?"

"The opposite is true, O'Neill." Teal'c halted at the Colonel's side. "Their homes are sheltered by a large grove of trees. The ground underneath the branches has been protected somewhat from the rain."

"And?" Daniel leaned around the Jaffa's bulk to squint over at the location. "Surely you didn't find any prints."

"You are mistaken, Daniel Jackson." If it was possible, the Jaffa appeared smug. "I did indeed discover signs that someone had passed through there."

"Huaka'i po?" Kawehi rounded the group and stopped near Sam. "Na'u ho'omaka'u! Nohea, I am frightened!"

"I know, Kawehi." Sam reached out and placed an arm around the girl's shoulders. "It'll be okay."

"So—what do we have, T?" The Colonel looked at his feet, his soaked boots. "Spirits? Leprechauns? Ghosts?"

"Not unless those ghosts wear 'mi-to hak'."

"What?" Daniel's brows sank. "I don't understand that term. Something to do with feet—"

"It is the Goa'uld term for 'boots', Daniel Jackson."

"Don't, Teal'c." The Colonel fitted his palm over his eyes. "Please don't tell me what I just _know_ you're going to tell me."

"You found boot prints?" Sam's eyes flew wide. "I guess they could have been left here from when the other SG team came through."

"Indeed not, Major Carter." The Jaffa gave a single shake of his head. "These prints are fresh. And they are not those made by footwear common at the SGC."

""I'm telling you, Teal'c." O'Neill raised both hands, now, to his face, digging his palms against his forehead. "So help me."

"Teal'c—are you saying that the boots aren't standard issue?"

"But they are, Major Carter." His brow rose only a hair. "Standard issue for Jaffa."

-OOOOOOO-

**Glossary**

ʻUmoki: Stop it!

Kulikuli: Be quiet

Hele: Come

Wikiwiki: Hurry up.

Konela: Colonel—a Hawaiianized form of an English word

Kokua mai: Help me

Wahine: Woman

Pilikia: Trouble

Ala: Up

Aia Keiki: Where's the child

He aha ka mea i hana ʻia? I aha ʻia?: What happened?

Auwe: A term of disgust or impatience—a complaint. Sort of like "Oh, no!"

Na'u ho'omaka'u: Give fear

Nightmarchers (Huaka'i Po) are a legendary band of spirit warriors. Many legends surround them, among them that seeing the Nightmarchers will result in your instant death. If you suspect that they are near, it is said that you must lie prone (and sometimes nude) and cover your eyes until you are sure that they are gone. They are also said to gather souls for a great spirit battle, or to take the souls of the dead away to their final reward. Countless other legends surround them, chief among them that they appear on the night of Lono's moon—a sliver moon. For the purposes of my story, I've switched the timing around a little. I hope you don't mind.


	6. Kapu

_I know that these last few chapters have been all talky-talky. I promise it will heat up soon. Thanks to those of you who are being patient with me. I appreciate it. _

**Kapu**

(Taboo)

"They're not going."

"What?" The Colonel stood, his weapon in hand. "Why the hell not?"

Sam passed a look at Daniel before heaving a frustrated sigh. "They said it wouldn't do any good. That the kids are gone. Once taken by the Nightmarchers, there is no way for anyone to come back. Aki told me that the village accepts their loss."

"They said that there isn't any point in going after them." Daniel stepped closer to Jack, one hand resting on the pistol attached to his thigh. "That the Nightmarchers were doing the bidding of Lono, and that they, as mere mortals, aren't allowed to intervene."

The Colonel exhaled with a grumble, gesturing widely with his hand. "Did they learn _nothing_ from the Pig God fiasco?"

"Their stance is that the Nightmarchers and Kama pua'a have nothing to do with each other." Sam's voice was tight. "And that since Lono has been a benefactor to them, he would not send the Nightmarchers without reason."

"Convenient." O'Neill lifted his hat and ran a hand through his hair. "Did you tell them about the footprints?"

"Of course, sir." Carter nodded. "They didn't want to hear it. And they even refused to listen when I tried to explain about the Jaffa. Aki flatly denied the possibility that there could be a Goa'uld around."

"To be honest, I'm not sure how that would happen, either." Daniel scowled. "They said that they've been watching the 'Gate. They would have seen if someone had come through."

"The Goa'uld frequently travel in vessels." Teal'c spoke with his customary calm. Seated on a fine mat, he was methodically reloading bullets into a magazine. "There is no need for the Stargate if they have the use of a ship."

Carter's eyes widened as she turned towards the archaeologist. "He's got a point, Daniel."

"Okay." Daniel shifted his weight onto his back foot. "Have any of the villagers seen a ship?"

"You mean besides the broken one parked in the next clearing over?" She'd tried, and failed to keep the sarcastic tone out of her voice. As his brows rose high above the rims of his glasses, Sam recovered herself a little. "They know what an Al-kesh looks like, Daniel. Just because they have no interest in using the thing doesn't mean they aren't familiar with it. I'm sure that they would have mentioned something."

"But there's been no other indication of one being here." Fingers wide, Daniel gestured absently, his face puzzled. "Usually when the Goa'uld arrive, they march in and take over the place. What possible reason could one have to go all stealthy?"

"What possible reason could there be to take infants?" Sam shrugged. "And yet, that's what we think happened."

"And no one's talking." The Colonel's hard glare rested on each member of his team in turn. "These people don't seem to care."

Sam lifted a shoulder. "The bottom line is that they're terrified of the Nightmarchers. No one's ever seen the apparitions—nobody even knows what they're supposed to look like. But they won't even begin to consider that something else is going on."

"We could go try to follow the prints." Daniel reached up and adjusted the bandana on his head. "Teal'c's been able to do that before."

"They petered out about thirty yards outside the village." The Colonel's jaw clenched. "Just on this side of the tree line."

For several long beats, they stood in quiet consideration. Finally, Sam broke the silence, stepping to one side to see around the Colonel. "Teal'c."

"Yes, Major Carter?"

"Do you think that you could find enough sign to figure out where the Jaffa were going?"

"Of that I am not certain, Major Carter." Unfolding his large frame, he stood and handed the magazine to the Colonel. "The rain has erased much of what might be useful."

"So, we've got a choice." Shoving the clip into his vest, O'Neill looked around the hale, assessing each of them in turn. "We're stuck here, anyway. Ikaika already said that the 'Gate's not accessible from the beach. We'd have to go all the way up the mountain and around the far edge to get back to it."

Daniel shook his head. "That's what, a two day trip?"

"At least." Sam's fingers worried at the hair behind her ear. "Probably longer."

"And General Hammond won't even dial through for a radio check until we're six hours late." Turning his wrist, the Colonel indicated his watch. "Which won't be until tomorrow afternoon."

With a meaningful look out the door of the hale, Daniel drew in a deep breath. "It's most likely going to rain again."

"Probably." O'Neill pressed his lips together. His eyes lit upon Sam for a beat before he continued. "We can handle that. Now that we know what the mountains can do."

Carter accepted that with a flare of her eyes. Taking a cleansing breath, she shifted her weight. "Sir, I hate to sound like the girl, here. And I know that my argument is compassionate, rather than tactical." Bare toes gripping down into the smooth weave of the mat, Sam adjusted her grip on her weapon. "But they're just little babies."

The Colonel's eyes turned a shade darker. "I know, Carter."

Daniel finished tightening the knot at the back of his head. "How long could they last without food?"

"They're breastfed, Daniel." Sam dropped her chin. "And the oldest of the three isn't even four months old yet. None of them are eating solids."

The archaeologist ducked his chin, staring speculatively down at his toes. "So, unless the Jaffa routinely carry infant formula and a supply of bottles—"

"They do not, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's matter-of-fact delivery offered resounding pessimism. "And if the infants are not returned to their mothers, they will die."

"Sir." Sam fought to keep her voice steady, and was embarrassed when it broke anyway.

O'Neill's scowl deepened. "I _know_, Carter."

"We can't just let that happen." She speared each of her team mates with her clear, blue gaze. "I _won't_ let that happen. Not if we can find them. Not if I can—"

A rustle at the door stopped her, and she turned to see Kawehilani standing just outside the entrance. Behind her, face towards the ground, her hair obscuring her face, stood another woman. Wider, taller, the newcomer appeared to be older than Kawehi, and miles shyer. Both women had drawn their kapa shawls up over their heads, ostensibly to protect them from the rain—but Sam suspected that it was more to obscure their identities.

"Come in, Kawehi." With a quick motion of her fingers, Sam invited them closer. "We were just talking about—"

"The keiki." Kawehi frowned. Her face was drawn, tight, and worried. Lowering her shawl to drape across her torso, she nodded. "I know. I heard you from outside the door."

"Okay." Sam bracketed her hands on her hips. "Then what—"

"I believe you." The girl's whisper seemed loud in the private quietude of the hale. "About the Jaffa. I believe you, and so does Mahina. And so does Moana."

"Ho'olu. Ho'olu kokua." The other woman raised her arms in distinct supplication. Dry, terrified, Moana's bright eyes implored Sam for compassion. "Paulele 'oe."

Kawehi placed a hand on the other woman's arm. "She pledges her trust in you. She has come to ask for your help in finding her child."

"Kawehi—the rest of your people don't seem to be interested in going after the babies." The Colonel turned, his face carefully blank. "We can't do this without some help."

"They are afraid of the huaka'i po—the Nightmarchers." With a shake of her dark head, she moved further into the hale. "They are afraid, but I do not believe that the huaka'i po have taken the keiki. If these Jaffa have taken them, I know the place where they might be."

The Colonel canted his head to one side. "Oh?"

"There is a hale—a sacred place." With another step inward, Kawehi folded her arms across the kapa on her chest. "It is beyond the lowlands. Hidden within the mauna on the other side of the forest."

"Which way?"

Motioning with one arm, the girl indicated a position beyond the village, upwards, towards the mountains. "Once, long ago, when Kama pua'a lived, some of our men were hunting the wild boar. They ventured too far and became lost. These were four kane who had known our mountains since the day of their birth. Mahina says that they found a temple—that within it were strange and terrible things. That a creature lived there, and attacked the men. All of them escaped except for one, who was lost. They had no choice but to leave him and return home for help."

She paused, warily looking from the Major to the Colonel. After a deliberate breath, she went on. "The kane raised an army from the village. They traversed the mountain and found the temple again. Their friend was still there, his body still living. But he had been changed—he was no longer their brother. He had been captured by the creature, and devoured from within. The creature wore him as a skin."

With a guarded look at her CO, Sam exhaled sharply. "Sir—"

"I know, Carter." The Colonel squared his shoulders, his sigh infused with equal parts frustration and resignation. "I caught that, too."

Daniel cleared his throat. "So, what happened?"

"There was a great battle, and eventually the creature was killed." Kawehi paused. "Mahina says that the men fought valiantly, and many died. The creature had armed himself with lightning. He sent it out of the palm of his hand. I remembered the other god Ku—at Halemaumau—his hand could breathe fire, as well. That is why I do not believe the kahuna."

Velvet deep, Teal'c's voice rose from behind the girl. "A Goa'uld hand device."

"Sounds like it, Teal'c." O'Neill scratched at his jaw. "Or a zat."

Her brow furrowed, Sam returned her focus to the native girl. "Where exactly is this place? And how far away from the village?"

"It would take several hours' time to reach it." Speaking hurriedly, Kawehi crouched, lifting the corner of a mat on the floor. With her fingertip, she scratched a map into the hard-packed earth of the floor. "There is a path, but it leads to the stone heiau at the top of the mountain. Follow the pig trails up and out of the trees, past Ku's ship, and further into the mountain. There is a stone outcropping at the summit. A place where the lava flowed and then halted. Go around that, climb higher, and you will find the path. The path will lead you to the temple."

Daniel stepped close to Carter. "You said that Mahina knows about this place? Has she been there?"

"No." Pulling the kapa more tightly, she clasped it to her with a fine fist. "It is kapu. No one has been there since that time."

"Then how do you know where it is?"

"We are taught as children to avoid that place."

Sam's index finger worried at her bottom lip. "Can you take us?"

Turning, Kawehi looked at Moana in a silent question. Their communication, however silent, was nonetheless meaningful. When the girl turned back, she seemed to have retreated, somehow. As if she'd given all she could. "It is kapu. I will take you as far as I can. After that—"

"I know." Sam set her chin. "We're on our own."

"We are a simple people." She offered her explanation humbly—sincerely. "My village fears the huaka'i po. They trust in the beliefs and teachings of the kahuna. It is all that they have, now that we are free of the pig god. But with what I have seen—what I have witnessed—I know in my heart that something else works here. Something more than the Nightmarchers."

"I hate to say it, Kawehi. " The Colonel's mouth flattened in a sign of profound resignation. "But I think you're right."

**-OOOOOOO-**

The rain seemed to have abated for the time being, but dark, low clouds still threatened on all sides.

They'd slipped out of the hale unnoticed, figuring correctly that the village would be more concerned with the mothers' comfort than with that of its guests. Daniel had transposed Kawehi's crude map onto a note pad, after asking her a few more questions about the location of the temple. He'd then carefully wiped the dirt clean of any markings and folded the edge of the mat back down.

Moana had quietly ducked out of the hale, and a youth had arrived several minutes later carrying Sam's gear, which he'd dropped just inside the entrance to the common house before racing away. Without a word, the Major had grabbed her belongings and begun to pack them up. It had taken only a few minutes of preparation for Sam to complete the task, and a few more to don her boots and lace them up. Standing, she swung her pack onto her shoulders and turned towards her team.

"Ready?" The Colonel had watched her buckle the belt at her waist before donning his ball cap.

Nodding, Sam made an experimental wriggle to check for fit. "Yes, sir."

"Me, too, Jack." Daniel said, tucking the notepad into his breast pocket.

Teal'c inclined his head almost imperceptibly. "As am I, O'Neill."

Once beyond the door of the hale, they'd turned away from the village and towards the trees. Teal'c had found the end of the trail with ease. From that point, they had continued through the woods until they'd reached the secondary meadow, where the damaged Al-kesh had been landed and subsequently abandoned so many months before. They hiked around it, and then up into the mountains, following a well-worn hunting trail towards an obvious piece of black rock that fit with the markings on Kawehi's map.

The lowland scrub brush was thick, and scarred with narrow, winding half-tunnels made by feral boars. Up in the mountains, the palm trees became more scarce, replaced by tall pandanus trees, ironwoods, and citrus-like behemoths that the Colonel identified as akin to pomelo trees. Across the tops of the trees, looking down towards the village, they could see the ocean—more gray than blue, its choppy waters crested with white foam.

The air smelled moist, and fecund. Thick ferns sprouted from every surface—rock and soil. In and around the trees and dense shrubs, flowering plants and vines threw hints of spice as they were disturbed, and Sam felt enveloped by a sense of eerie familiarity. She'd known this before—this desperate apprehension in the midst of nearly painful beauty. As if nature was determined to make her descent into agony as pleasant as possible.

"Wow. That was a sigh."

Jarred out of her thoughts, Sam looked up to see the Colonel had drawn up next to her. She picked her way around yet another bush. "Just thinking, sir."

"I'd be shocked if you weren't." He stopped to let her pass through tight spot first, and then made longer strides to catch up. "Anything in particular?"

"The situation."

"What about it?" His smile carried no humor. "I mean, besides the fact that it sucks."

"That it makes no sense." At his questioning expression, she expounded. "It's not normal for two Goa'ulds to occupy the same territory."

"Not if one of them is subservient to the other one."

"There's no indication of that." Sam shook her head. "And with Kama pua'a gone, the modus operandi for the remaining Goa'uld should have been to claim the territory."

"There's also no proof that what we're talking about here is even a snake, Carter." O'Neill reached out and pulled aside a low-hanging branch, stepping aside to let her pass beneath it. "All we know is that something or someone took those babies, and we're going to try to find out who."

"And why." Daniel turned his head as he sojourned along a relatively easy spot in the path. "I don't understand the reasoning behind taking these particular infants."

"Experimentation, perhaps?" Teal'c spoke from his position at point.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "That's not a good thought, Teal'c."

"I wouldn't put it past them." Daniel paused, studying the cryptic notes he'd made on his notepad. "The Goa'uld consider humans to be little more than fodder for their own means. I mean, look at Hathor."

"We'll leave that one up to you, Daniel." O'Neill managed to look somewhat benign. "I mean, of all of us, you've had the best gander at her."

His sigh spoke volumes, but Daniel still lowered his notepad and glared at the Colonel. "Jack."

"Yeah, Daniel?"

"I thought that one was in the vault."

"No dice, Daniel. We're all part of the vault. It's fair game in private company."

"Well, then, I'm asking you to drop it." The younger man turned to watch as the Colonel edged past a large fruit-bearing bush. "Leave it alone."

"I'm not sure, Daniel. You two got pretty chummy."

"Guys." Carter sounded tired—and she knew it. Stopping in the middle of the path, she rested her hand on the weapon clipped to her vest. "Can we focus?"

"Sure, Sam." Daniel tapped his pencil against the pad he held, aiming a pointed look at the Colonel. "Jack?"

"Hey—I was just making conversation."

"_Rude_ conversation."

"Okay—Daniel. Sir—please. No offense to either of you, but our main mission should be to get the children back." Adjusting her pace, she sidled past the Colonel and then passed Daniel. Stopping next to Teal'c, she peeked back over her shoulder at the three men. "Come on."

Behind the clouds, the sun had reached its zenith before they paused on the top of the first peak. They'd been picking their way through the mud, trying to keep as much as they could on the rocks. The mountains rose from the lowlands in sections that looked like craggy legs, and the large black outcropping indicated by Kawehi somewhat resembled a knee. They'd followed the rise up beyond the forest treeline, and now hiked long the crest, further upwards, to find that a meadow sprawled itself across the rise like a saddle.

Around the outcropping, exactly at the point where the black volcanic rock subsided into heavy rich soil, Teal'c planted his staff weapon into the earth with a low call. "O'Neill!"

Hastening his pace, the Colonel climbed the last few steps up and over the edge, Sam and Daniel close behind. They all stopped next to Teal'c at the summit. Spread before them, the meadow glared an unrepentant green—except for a gray stone path that snaked its way through the grass. Far, far to the north, on the highest point of the adjacent peak, they could see the gleaming white stone of the Ancient building where they had discovered the remains of the destroyed repository on their first mission to this planet. A faint line of gray was just visible on the opposite side, cutting its way across the top of the mountain towards them. Southward, they could see the path leave the meadow and trace its way downwards, where it disappeared into a stand of trees that had found growth within a sweeping horse-shoe shaped gorge.

"Weapons ready. Safeties off, people." The Colonel flicked the switch on his own P-90. "There's not much cover up here. Let's make a beeline for the trees on that far side and then follow the path from a distance."

Murmuring an assent, Sam readied her own rifle, unclipping it from her chest. She heard Daniel pull his Beretta from its holster, while Teal'c pressed the control that unfurled the end of his staff weapon.

Half-crouching, they ran across the meadow, diagonally across the muddy grass to the quasi-shelter of the trees. Fanning out, they stayed within sight of the path as they made their way through the woods, their boots heavy in the underbrush. It was quiet—too much so—and Sam felt a chill wend its way down her spine. No birds—no wind. Even with the stormy weather that had bounced and whistled around them on the hike up, the air within this cavity was dead still. The stone walls rising up on either side of the path created a sense of seclusion—of isolation.

A hundred feet in, they saw it—a low, square building sitting within a circle of ironwoods. Surrounded on the visible sides by a wide lanai, the low-hanging eaves shaded windows and doors that appeared to be covered with heavy, decorative grates of some sort. Beyond the grates, flashes of color indicated draperies, or wall hangings.

Sam crept sideways until she came up on a par with the Colonel. He'd hunkered down behind a dense shrub, and was already peering at the building through his scope. Taking a knee next to him, Sam raised her P-90 to butt against her shoulder, its barrel angled towards the ground. "Got anything?"

"Not yet." O'Neill scanned first one way, and then the other. "The place is a fortress."

Sam glanced up and over the shrub to see Daniel and Teal'c crouching behind a large tree a dozen or so feet away. She turned back towards the Colonel. "Any Jaffa?"

"Nope." He shook his head. "There's not much of anything."

"So, what's the plan, sir?"

"Go check it out." Collapsing his scope against his chest, he stowed it, one-handed, into his pocket. "We'll split up—you and Teal'c go west, Daniel and I'll go east. Circle to the back and see what we find. Don't enter the building unless it's necessary. Meet up on the other side and make decisions then."

"Okay." She nodded.

"Use the radio sparingly, Major—we don't know what's back there, or who's listening."

Sam peeked up at him. "Is there a Plan B?"

"Yeah." Pulling himself up into a low crouch, the Colonel gave her a wry smile. "Don't get dead."

The corner of her mouth twitched. "That's a good plan."

"Yes. Well. They don't call me the Colonel for nothing." With a lingering look at her, O'Neill threw a series of hand signals towards Daniel and Teal'c before turning back towards Sam. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

He hesitated for the barest of breaths, his eyes steeling over. "Then let's go."

**-OOOOOOO-**

**Glossary**

Ho'olu: Please

Ho'olu kokua: Please help

Paulele 'oe: I believe you implicitly

Mauna: Mountain.

Just in case you go: Getting directions is interesting in Hawaii. Most volcanic islands are laid out in similar ways—the tall volcanic peaks in the center of the islands gradually descend into lowlands, and finally, beaches. 'Mauka' is towards the mountain, or inland, and 'makai' is towards the beach, or ocean. Instead of telling you to drive east or west, most locals will tell you to go "mauka" (towards the inner part of the island) or "makai" (towards the beach). I got so used to this that when I moved to the mainland, I had no idea how to differentiate between east and west. (But I did eventually learn.)


	7. Hopu 'Ia

**Hopu 'Ia**

(Caught)

Too long. Too much time had passed. Hidden behind a dense thicket of shrubbery, Sam stared at the rear of the house. Teal'c had lowered himself a few feet away from her, crouched with his staff weapon balanced across his thighs. When she passed him a look, his returning expression wasn't hopeful.

Fifteen minutes. It had been at least fifteen minutes since they'd reached the back of the building. The Colonel and Daniel should have been here waiting. Sam turned her wrist and shook her watch down so that she could see the time. Her jaw tensed up. Sixteen minutes, now. Crap. _So_ not good.

Judging by the time displayed on her wrist, and the change in the light around them, it would be dark soon. Sam's frown deepened.

The building was much larger than it had originally appeared. Even as quickly as they'd traipsed through the woods—keeping a healthy distance between themselves and the structure—it had taken ten minutes to walk the length of the thing. They'd expected to find the Colonel and Daniel at the back waiting for them—but had found only more trees. At first, Sam had settled in and studied the structure, committing to memory any design points that might offer advantages to either those inside or to SG-1.

Wide, white stone with dark wood shutters, it appeared to be at least twice as long as it was wide, and what had originally looked like a large, vaulted roof had turned out to be a second story. A lanai enclosed the front of the building, providing no access for a covert entry. The side walls that Sam had seen were unrepentant stone—with only two windows placed at equal distances from the ends. Another lanai shaded the back entrance. Open at the sides, with pillars for supports rather than the dark-stained lattice work of the front, this patio provided better cover—and a more useful point of entry should it come to that.

Staying low, Sam moved the few feet towards Teal'c. His face mirrored hers—concern, worry—even if his body language portrayed his inimitable calm. She scanned the area again before leaning into him. "Have you seen anything I haven't?"

"No." The Jaffa didn't move, other than raising a trenchant look at the sky.

Sam followed his gaze. "It's getting darker."

"The clouds are also returning." Teal'c watched her briefly before returning his focus towards the temple. "I believe that it will rain again soon."

"Maybe it took us too long to get around the building." Sam turned her body to face the back door again. Her whisper felt raw in her mouth. "Maybe the Colonel saw an opportunity and they took advantage of it."

"I do not believe Colonel O'Neill would do so without giving us notice, Major Carter." Teal'c shifted the staff weapon in his grip. "It would seem more likely that he and Daniel Jackson have encountered some difficulty that has delayed their progress."

Sam pressed her lips together. She studied the back of the house—the patio, the pillars, the windows on either side of the back entrance—shuttered by the heavily stained lattice work that seemed to be typical for the structure. Straining, she couldn't hear much—foliage rustling in the barely-there breeze, a whistle of air against the face of the soaring rock walls, the skitters of birds in the trees above.

And then something else—metallic—heavy. A foot fall? A clatter of armor? The sound had been muffled, and dull, its location impossible to pinpoint. Sam sidled back over to where she'd been before, and then a little further. Nothing. She could see nothing. With a pointed look over her shoulder at Teal'c, she scooted further towards the other side of the house, keeping her distance while angling for a better view of the area around the corner.

Another porch—uncovered—really more of a walkway. This wall broken in the middle by a deep recess with steps leading up and inward to what Sam assumed was a door. Long windows with the dark wooden decorative coverings defined the walls on either side of the recess. A wide swath of gravel spread out from the paved area around the recess and towards the forest, abutting the stone walkway that led away from the front of the house. Obviously, this part of the building saw more use than the other side.

Sam bent down and skirted further over, hoping for a clearer view. In her peripheral vision, she could see Teal'c, whose longer legs had carried him further back into the denser woods. With her P-90 tucked into her shoulder, she followed him, using the larger trees and bushes for cover. He moved silently through the underbrush, his large body melding with the dense growth. Crossing between two fruit-laden shrubs to stop just behind him, Sam joined him in concealment behind the hanging roots of a pandanus tree.

"Teal'c—" She began, but stopped when his large hand shot upwards, clutched in a fist. She stepped backwards at his urging, moving around the perimeter of the mass of vine-like roots hanging from the tree. Teal'c sidled backwards as well, his staff weapon primed in his hand. Cautious, Sam crept around the outside, following Teal'c's gaze towards the structure in front of them.

Jaffa. Four of them. Fully armored, two with staff weapons, two with zats. Immediately Sam hunched down, pressing as far under the vegetation as she could. Beside her, Teal'c had done the same, his staff weapon upright—camouflaged by the vertical fall of pandanus roots. With the back of her hand, Sam pushed a few branches aside to watch as the Jaffa exited the building and then split off—two and two—marching into the forest, their boots harsh on the gravel.

"They are searching for something." Teal'c's voice whispered past her.

"Us, maybe?" Sam shuffled to the rear, hugging the tree with her back. "It could be that they have the Colonel and Daniel and know that we're out here."

"Would we not have heard the struggle?"

"Not if they fell into an ambush." The Major frowned. "Acoustics are funny in this place. We might not have heard weapons fire."

"We would have heard the report of the P-90."

Sam stilled. She didn't even want to think the next words, their connotation disquieting, but she forced herself to say them anyway. "Not if they never fired a round."

Watching the two Jaffa on her side as they tromped into the woods, Sam worried at her bottom lip with her teeth. The guards walked a few feet from each other, searching the area, their armor capturing the color of the plants around them and the darkened clouds overhead. They headed straight out from the building at first, and then veered outwards, away from each other and from the structure, aiming deeper into the darkening forest.

"At least they don't know where we are." She watched as they disappeared into the foliage. "That's something."

"Regardless, Major Carter." She felt the rumble of Teal'c's words against her side. "I do not see either Colonel O'Neill or Daniel Jackson."

"Maybe they went inside?"

"To what end?" Teal'c turned his head towards her. "Without reason and planning, that action is not tactically sound."

Sam considered this, her mind racing. Few things could compel the Colonel to abandon protocol—or at least, protocol that he believed in. Something else had to be in play, here. She turned the opposite way and cast another look at the structure. Shifting, the Major balanced on a knee, raising the weapon to position. Using the sight as a scope, she scanned the open door, but saw nothing but empty hallway. Movement—wafting film like gauzy curtains—but nothing humanoid. Panning right, she frowned when she couldn't get an angle that would allow a view inside. She shifted leftward and focused into the long window directly in front of her.

Through the intricately carved lattice she could make out little more than shadows. Human figures—possibly Jaffa, possibly Goa'uld, but it wasn't possible to tell across the distance. The decorated panels shuttering the openings provided significant cover for activity within—and even more so when the figures moved towards Sam's right and the room went dark. Sam lowered her weapon without any more answers than she'd had before. "I can't make out anything." She scowled. "The woodwork doesn't let much through."

"It would appear that it is more than decorative, then." Teal'c's spoke low, his voice quiet. "Those inside the temple could use it as a tactical advantage."

"I was just thinking the same thing." Sam bit her lower lip. "It's good for hiding things. Or people."

The sounds of the Jaffa echoed towards the pandanus tree from the rock walls. Sam felt Teal'c's eyes on her, knew that he was choosing his already tight words even more carefully. "It is possible that Daniel Jackson and Colonel O'Neill have been captured, Major Carter."

Frowning, Sam looked at her team mate. "I know. I'd kind of figured that already."

His nod was more acknowledgment than agreement. "What is your mode of thinking, Major Carter?"

She turned again, searching through the forest around her for sign of the foot soldiers, but only catching glimpses of them through the dense vegetation. "Let's get closer."

Teal'c went first, rounding the tree and hurrying, half-bent, towards the far back corner of the structure. Sam slung the P-90 at her side and followed, ducking low as she jogged through the brush towards a pair of flowering trees ten feet away from the gravel path. Teal'c looked at her expectantly, and she nodded, scanning the area before breaking away from the greenery and angling towards the back corner of the building—beyond the view of the windows. Pressing her back against the stone, Sam waited, listening.

Wind—trees—branches—and something else. The low hum of machinery of some sort. A generator? Metal clanking against metal. Like someone filling the silverware section of a dishwasher. Or the melodic jangle of dental instruments—or medical tools. Muffled voices—more than one. Probably more Jaffa. The scrape of a shoe on tile, or stone, and a hushed conversation from somewhere within. And then, another sound. This one tiny, brief, and heartbreaking.

A cry.

Just one, just once—and then it was gone. Sam pressed her lips tight and crouched in readiness, signaling Teal'c towards the recessed door. He reached it in a dozen or so of his long, gliding strides, then waited for a breath before hurling himself across the space in front of the stairs to flatten himself against the wall on the other side. Sam peeked around the corner, up the steps and into the recessed entrance.

Through the still-open door she could see a long hallway, lit with small lamps attached to the stone walls beside gathered panels of heavy fabrics. A long piece of carpeting stretched down the center of the tiled floor, going as far as Sam could see before disappearing into darkness beyond. She counted three doorways before the darkness obscured the hallway—two on the right side, and one on the left.

With a nod to Teal'c, Carter pulled her weapon tight against her shoulder and started up the stairs. Quiet. The hallway stretched before her in near silence—full of only that low thrum that seemed omnipresent and the gentle flicker of the lamps on the stone walls. The room immediately to her left was dark and empty of anything but ornately carved furniture, and Teal'c indicated that the room on the right was, as well. They traversed the hallway towards the third room, drawing back the curtain that obscured the entrance, but found it empty, as well.

On an impulse, Sam insinuated the barrel of her P-90 between one of the wallhangings and the stone on which it hanged, pulling the fabric away from the wall. Behind the heavy fabric was a shallow rounded alcove. Empty save for a few wooden pegs, it seemed to be intended to store staff weapons. Pulling her P-90 away, Sam allowed the fabric to fall back flush against the wall.

Down the hall, they passed more wallhangings, ducking quickly past the lamps casting a faint glow in the passageway. The wall on the right opened up into another hallway, while further on down their current path, they could see an eerie flicker from an opening near the end. Teal'c passed her a questioning glance, and Sam answered it with a jerk of her head down towards the end of the corridor. Stepping with care past the new passageway, they headed on down towards the end of the hall.

Dark. Dim, the flicker grew brighter as they neared it. Teal'c pressed up against the right hand wall, then unholstered his zat. He paused to lean his staff weapon against a wallhanging, then fingered the head of the weapon up. At his nod, Sam moved, and they converged on the door in unison.

"Watch it!"

The familiar hiss came from beyond the orange-toned flicker. Sam frowned, lowering her weapon from full attention to rest on her vest. The Colonel sat in the center a room beyond the doorway, one hand braced on the floor behind him, the other framing the side of his head. Behind him, still and pale, Daniel slouched in a heap on the floor. Both men's faces were distorted by the orange force field that cascaded from the top of the entrance way down to the floor, but nothing could disguise the ugly bruise that was emerging on the side of the Colonel's head.

Sam's eyes flew wide. "Sir! What happened?"

The Colonel tilted his head, the corners of his mouth turning downward. "We got captured, Carter. What does it look like?"

"Is Daniel—"

"I'm sure he's fine, Carter." O'Neill gritted the words out without looking at the archaeologist. "Can you get us out of here?"

Teal'c stepped backward, casting an appraising glare around the doorway. Nearing the field again, he gave a single shake of his head. "There is no panel on the outside of this door way, O'Neill. The force field must be remotely controlled."

"Do you remember what they did to put you in there?" The Major lowered her weapon and her voice. "How did they capture you?"

The Colonel pushed himself to his feet, then shuffled towards the orange screen. "We heard something coming from the house. Daniel figured it was one of the kids. We closed in for a better look. All of a sudden, he gets zatted, and something hits me in the side of my head."

Teal'c turned, watching the hallway behind them. "Most likely the end of a staff weapon."

"Swung by a big-ass Jaffa." At Carter's sigh, he clarified. "No, really. The guy was _huge_."

"Sir." Sam's brows rose as she studied her CO, swallowing the sigh that edged at the back of her throat.

His scowl was only slightly tinged with embarrassment. "Whatever. The fact is that we're stuck in here, and Daniel's still doing his best impersonation of Sleeping Beauty."

Sam considered this, turning reaching to her left to pull back heavy drape that was suspended from rings at the end of the hall. She gestured at the alcove, and then at the darkened room just behind her. "This place is full of these little hidden niches. What else of this structure have you seen?"

"Nothing—they just brought us in and chucked us on through."

She frowned, her hand paused on the curtain on the other side of the darkened entry way. "They passed you through the force field?"

"Not _passed_—_chucked_." He demonstrated with one hand. "They literally threw us in."

Teal'c spoke over his left shoulder. "It is a field that allows items to pass through in only one direction."

"So, chances are, if they tried to come through the opposite way—" Her voice trailed off.

"They would die."

The Colonel's brows met over the bridge of his nose. "Way to go with the positive thinking, T."

With a rough exhale, Sam pressed her shoulder against the stone framework of the entry way. Her movement garnered the attention of the Colonel, and she knew that he watched her as she appraised him. This posture of his—the humor—the sarcasm—it was his stress relief. That facet of his personality had become evident over the years that they had worked together. But in certain moments, she found the attitude grating. Especially in this particular circumstance, once again on opposite sides of a wall of energy, their lives at stake. His thoughts must have mirrored hers, because his expression softened, his shoulders relaxing just a touch.

One of his eyebrows edge upwards. "Deja vu, Major?"

"Sir." She ducked her chin, not able to acknowledge his comment. "We need to get moving, here."

"I know." He shoved a hand in his pocket. "Have you seen our gear?"

Carter shook her head. "Do you remember where the crying was coming from?"

"I don't know." His lips thinned. "I remember a hallway going down that way." He gestured with a tilt of his head. "When we heard it, we were on that side of the building. Up near the front. We never even got this far back."

"We heard one cry."

"Just a few minutes ago?"

Sam nodded. "So as of a few minutes ago, at least one of them was—"

The Colonel didn't need to finish the thought. Leaning towards the force field, he wiggled his fingers at Carter. "Where's your zat?"

She produced it from the holster at her thigh. "Right here, sir."

"Pass it through. Just in case the opportunity presents itself."

Sam hesitated only briefly before attaching her P-90 to its moorings. Flipping up a flap on her vest, she reached in and withdrew a shell casing she'd found on the floor of the locker room the morning they'd gone through the 'Gate. Stepping backward, she waited until Teal'c and the Colonel had cleared away from the force field before sliding the casing along the stone floor towards the cascade of orange. As the casing hit the field, it exploded in a shower of sparks, ending up a mangled mess on the other side.

"Damn." The Colonel stared at the lump of smoking brass on the floor. "I was really hoping that would work."

"It must be calibrated specifically for organic masses." Sam stepped back and studied the stone around the doorway. "But there has to be a—"

Footsteps. Heavy metal on stone. A scuff on carpeting. Mumbled words. Teal'c instantly flattened himself against the wall as Sam slid backwards into the shadowed end of the hall. As the sounds grew closer, she backed towards the alcove at the end of the hallway, sliding behind the curtain just as Teal'c disappeared into the darkened room directly across from the Colonel and Daniel's cell.

The footsteps breached the hallway, then turned and angled towards where she hid. Instinctively, Sam backed more firmly against the wall, stilling her movements, careful not to touch the fabric. The fabric completely enclosed her—dark, musty, and warm. She forced her breathing to become shallow, and silent, as the noises grew even closer, as the movement of the guards wafted the curtain even closer to her body.

Armor. Boots. And then something else—a mewl that sounded like a newborn kitten. Sam squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lips tight.

"Hey—boys!" The Colonel's voice rose from Carter's left. "Whatcha got there?"

But he received no answer—other than a sudden flare of light from Sam's right. Glancing over, she saw a miniscule gap between the curtain and the wall, allowing her a vantage point into the room. Cautiously, she reached over with her free hand and drew the curtain closer to the wall, leaving a sliver at the top through which she could observe.

The room was a laboratory. Four tall tables were situated around the room, parallel to the four walls. A larger, wider table sat in the center of the room, atop a pedestal into which had been carved compartments to hold a selection of instruments. The walls seemed rounded—largely due to the ornate draperies that were suspended from rings slung from the ceiling. The three Jaffa seemed out of place in the room, overdone in their armor and boots.

Especially as each of them held an incongruous bundle in their arms rather than a weapon.

Sam shifted as furtively as possible, trying to peer deeper into the room, but couldn't see anything beyond the tables. She watched as one of the Jaffa placed his bundle on a table, then reached behind it and pulled wide straps up and over the table, securing the infant in place with a quick knot on the opposite side. Turning, he moved towards the center of the room. "Secure the specimen and assume your post. She will arrive soon."

"It is done." Another guard approached the center table, passing an assessing glance over the instruments there. "Is all in readiness for her arrival?"

The third Jaffa joined his comrade at the center table. "It is. She will be pleased with our efforts."

The first Jaffa quirked his nostril in a sneer. "Do not assume too much, Mak-tra. Our God is fickle. Perhaps she will be angered by the mere sight of your face."

"Hey!" O'Neill's call carried easily across the hall. "What's with the kids? You guys starting a day care?"

Sam closed the gap in the curtain just as the first Jaffa turned towards the cell. Again in darkness, she listened as his footsteps fell across the carpeting as he crossed to stand directly in front of her hiding place.

"Who are you working for?" Something—his knuckle?—knocked on the stone wall near the cell door. "I know—look at the tattoo—right? But there seems to be a little wiggle room there, you know? You guys have a hell of a turnover rate."

The Jaffa's derisive snort echoed in the close confines of the hall. "If you wish to live, you will not anger me."

"Not angering." The Colonel somehow managed to sound completely innocent. "Just asking."

"Asking answers for which you have no need." The Jaffa's armor clinked as he shifted. "And on which you cannot act."

"Come on, pal." Wheedling, now. But still oh-so-ingenuous. Sam could hear a subtle adjustment in her CO's voice as he changed tacks. "I'm bored here. You knocked out my friend back there. Throw me a bone."

"I fail to see what that would accomplish."

A pause. And Sam almost smiled when O'Neill's natural sarcasm broke through. "It would make me _not_ bored?"

"It would behoove you to—"

"Jaffa!" This voice was new. Feminine and husky, it filled the passage with a deep sensuality. Its modulations clearly disclosing the Goa'uld within. "Jaffa, kree! Back to your charge. You have no business with this human."

"Yes, my queen." The Jaffa moved backwards obediently. Something—his elbow?—brushed against the drape directly in front of Sam's body in his haste to make way for his mistress.

Light, graceful, the newcomer's footsteps whispered across the rug on the floor as she moved to stand in front of the cell. Sam heard O'Neill curse softly beneath his breath, could practically see his dark eyes narrow and deepen.

"Colonel O'Neill of the Taur'i." The distinctive voice carried a hint of a smile. "How much it pleases me to have you again in my grasp."


	8. Koho Koho

I need to apologize for the time it took me to get this up. First my computer crashed (and we had to buy a whole new one) and then I had to leave for a business conference, and then I came home to three of five children sick, which they kindly shared with me. So, I spent a week feeling like crud, and another week without a voice and dealing with school issues with my kids and trying to communicate with clients without being able to speak with them. I literally have not had time to write. So, if this seems disjointed, it's because I started it AGES ago, and have just now gotten my life to a point where I could work on it again. I promise that the next chapter won't take as long. Thanks for your patience-and if you've reviewed and I haven't answered, I'm so sorry. I do appreciate all your support.

**Koho Koho**

(Choices)

"Well, lookee here." The Colonel sounded bored, but Sam could hear the disgust infused within the flippancy. "It's Nirrti."

"Colonel O'Neill of the Taur'i." The Goa'uld's tone carried something else—something not too far from facetiousness—a sneer of recognition, a smidge of mild amusement.

Sam bit her lip as feet shuffled on the carpet. Blinded in the darkness of the alcove, it seemed as if her other senses were heightened in comparison. She could practically smell the odor of the Goa'uld who hovered so near, and feel the heat of the host's body as she shifted on the other side of the draped velvet.

"You know." Sam could just imagine the sneer on her CO's face as he drawled out his syllables. "If we keep having these little intimate meetings, people are going to start talking." O'Neill's boots scraped against the smooth floor as he moved in his cell. "You catch my drift? You keep following me around like this, folks are going to think you have a thing for me."

"Your attempt at humor neither impresses nor amuses me." The Goa'uld's tone was calm. "Rather, it is indicative of the insignificant nature of your race."

"Ah. So, I guess you're going with the superior rant here?"

"As it is in truth." Low, lush, her voice edged around the curtains and into Sam's space. "You are, after all, only a vessel. Humans are destined to serve the Goa'uld."

Deceptively easy, the Colonel's manner seemed conversational. "You know, I think we'll just have to agree to disagree on that point."

A low chuckle made its way through the heavy fabric. "It amuses me how you cling to your insignificant beliefs. Do you think I care if you protest? It will not change the outcome. You will still be my prisoner. And you will still, ultimately, serve my needs."

"There's this cliché about eggs and counting. You might want to study up on it."

A sharp exhale burst into the hall, and—behind her own closed lids—Sam could see the expression on the face of the Goddess, her dark eyes little more than slits, her sharp mouth curled in a sneer. "It is of no consequence. Your capture has merely afforded me time in which to complete my research. I have no use for you."

"Then why keep us around?"

"Your presence amuses me. For so primitive a race, the Tau'ri have become something of a novelty."

"Like those babies over there? Is that what they are? Something to play with?"

Silence. The quiet movements of the infants on their tables in the other room the only disturbance. Sam flared her nostrils, trying to lessen the sound of her own breathing. Her throat was dry—she desperately wanted to swallow, but clenched her jaw shut, instead. Another sound sidled through the drape towards her—fabric on stone, a slap of skin. A palm, perhaps, on a wall, or on the smooth tile of the floor.

Sleepy, seemingly disembodied, a new voice intruded. "Jack?"

_Daniel_. Sam bit her lips against the groan that threatened. A slight moan came from the cell to her left, and she could hear her team mate as he moved—stretching, she presumed—and then a faint clicking noise told her that he'd found his glasses and put them on.

"Where are we, Jack?"

The Colonel took his time before answering. "We're up a certain creek, without a specific paddle."

A pause, punctuated by a sigh. "Well, that sucks."

"And, we've got company."

"Really?" More movement—a boot heel on the tiled floor, a hand slapped flat on a knee. Then a noise like air being let out of a balloon. "Well—that _really_ sucks."

"While I am aware that you have never revered me or my kind, Doctor Jackson." The Goa'uld's tone held a hint of what Sam measured to be amusement. "I would have expected, perhaps, a bit more reluctance to anger me."

"Yeah—well. That's me." Daniel stood, evidenced by a crack of a joint and harder boot treads on the ground. "I try not to be too predictable."

"Hey. Come on, you two. Let's not get off track, here. Nirrti—you haven't answered my question." The Colonel's tone had twisted, somehow. Morphed from congenial to intense. "What do you want with the kids you've got over there?"

"My plans do not include you. You need not concern yourself."

O'Neill made an oddly strangled sound. "Come on, Nirrti. You know I'm not going to leave it at that."

"I do not see how you have any choice. You are my prisoner."

"Oh—yeah—right. Thanks for the update."

Footsteps on the rug in the hall signaled the arrival of more Jaffa. Frowning, Sam tried to ascertain from the sounds she could hear how many there were, but the noises in the hallway were too intertwined to provide any clue.

"My Queen." One of the guards had saluted somehow—Sam could imagine from the dull clunk how his fist would have hit the armor on his chest. "We have returned from our search."

"And what have you found, Jaffa?"

"There are no more of the Tau'ri in the forest."

"Are you certain?" The Goa'uld turned, and her voice became softer—more muffled. "These two are usually found in the company of two more—a female and the Shol'va known as Teal'c."

"There was no sign of them, My Lord."

"Continue patrols and inform me immediately if they are found."

"Yes, My Lord." Heavy treads brushed along the rug as the Jaffa turned and made their way back down the hall. Boots on stone told Sam that they had gone out the way she and Teal'c had come in—through the side door and its stone steps outside.

Airy, light, the fabrics on the Goa'uld whispered as she turned again. "Do not fret over your fate, Colonel O'Neill, and Doctor Jackson. You should not fear that about which you have no power."

"Come on, Nirrti. You hold the cards, here. Throw me a bone."

"You are in no position to make demands."

"You're right. I'm a prisoner."

"Yes." Nirrti's tone held overtones of a question. "And therefore completely at my mercy."

O'Neill didn't even breathe before he responded. "So, use me."

Silks shushed in the relative quiet of the hall. A low, deep chuckle arose from just on the other side of the curtain, punctuated by a footfall on the soft rug below. "For what purpose?"

"Whatever it is that you're trying to do with those kids in there." The Colonel had stepped closer to the doorway. His voice was being distorted by the force field and by his anger. "Whatever you want with them—do it to me. Leave them alone."

From within the walls of the laboratory to Sam's right, an infant made a half-hearted cry. Tiny, weak, it sounded like a desperate kitten. A single boot fall crackled along stone, and the cry came to an end, but Sam couldn't tell if someone had moved closer to or farther away from the child—couldn't tell if the child was being comforted or merely silenced. She closed her eyes against the images that invoked, juxtaposed so wrongly beside other memories—dancing visions of the village's mothers cradling their healthy, thriving babies close, laughing faces and loving gazes. Sam's jaw clenched even as her heart sank a little more.

And then the Goa'uld broke through again—issuing a laugh really more akin to a bemused sigh. Sam could readily imagine Nirrti's face, her deep-set eyes shining with interest, her thin lips curved upwards in what would pass for a smile for a Goa'uld. "What do you care about these specimens?"

"Those 'specimens' are complete innocents here."

"They are empty pods of flesh. Too small, too weak to be of use to you."

O'Neill's voice turned chilly. "Then why do _you_ want them?"

"I have my purposes."

"What are they?" This was Daniel's question, his voice closer, now, too. "Are you going to engineer yourself a new host?"

"We know you, Nirrti." O'Neill slapped the palm of his hand against the smooth stone around the doorway. "We know you like to futz with other people's lives. What are you going to do to these babies?"

"I have already told you. You have no need to know."

"Use me, instead." This time, the Colonel's voice had lowered, become more insistent.

"I'm afraid you lack specific characteristics for the purpose I have in mind."

Daniel answered her, understanding in his tone. "So, it was planned. You took these kids specifically. It _does_ have something to do with Kama pua'a."

The following pause seemed assessing, more than anything else. After a long silence, Nirrti made a sound low in the back of her throat. "You two should find your comforts while you may." Turning again, the Goa'uld's lithe movements were mirrored by the harsher sounds of armor and heavier bodies of her Jaffa. "I assure you that this respite you currently enjoy will not last for long."

"Damn it, Nirrti—"

But the Colonel's exasperated exhale told Sam that the Goa'uld had ignored him and crossed over into the lab. Sam shifted, angling again towards the room to her right. Waiting until she was certain that the contingent had entered the lab, she allowed the curtain at her right to edge open, affording a slivered view into the room. Sam watched through the slit as Nirrti crossed to the table in the center of the room, reaching into the storage niches below to extract a hand device. She slid the gold links over her wrist and secured it before fitting her fingertips into the thimble-like ends. Leaning over again, Nirrti retrieved another instrument from the storage area—an elongated disk fitted with a strap. As the Goa'uld inserted her other hand through the binding, Sam caught a glimpse of a huge smooth jewel set into the face of the device, which flashed a deep orange as soon as the strap was tightened across the back of Nirrti's hand.

She disappeared from Sam's view as she crossed towards the opposite side of the room, presumably to where the third child had been placed on a table. A tiny sigh arose from that side of the room, and then a glow of red light, followed by a flash of orange—the jewel in the unknown device?—and a humming sound that would have seemed innocuous, if it hadn't been for its source.

"This one is not suitable. Too weak. Too human." Nirrti's voice arose from around the hum, dissatisfied, annoyed. With an abrupt sound, the glow dissipated, and the Goa'uld stepped back into Sam's field of vision while a Jaffa sidled past her and towards the rear of the room. "You may dispose of it as I had directed."

The Jaffa's quiet answer was muffled by the room itself, and Nirrti nodded at him before turning her attention back towards the other two tables. Moving past the center station, she stopped at another of the examination areas. Calmly, she observed the infant it held for a bare moment before raising her right hand, where the ribbon device wrapped like golden tendons around her fingers. Steadily, the beam gathered strength in her palm before coursing down onto the child on the table. With a tiny, startled cry, the infant relaxed, its posture unnatural and still.

"Let us see what you are made of." Nirrti passed her hand over the child's body, the light pulsing gently as it caressed its small form. Sam couldn't see which of the three infants lay so quietly on the table. Above the lip of the surface, all that was visible were vague shapes of coffee-colored skin and black curls.

As well as the bottoms of impossibly tiny feet. As the reddish light passed over the tiny toes, they flinched, and Sam's hand tightened on her weapon, her fingertips digging painfully into textured stock. Her entire body shook with anger—with fury.

_Control_. She needed control over this sudden, intense urge to throw back the curtain, take aim, and start firing. More than anything, Sam Carter wanted to kill Nirrti. Because of Cassie, and her people—all dead. Because of the other worlds that had been destroyed. But most of all, for those toes, for all three of those helpless, quiet forms lying so still and vanquished on the exam tables. Because of all of that, Sam _needed_ to see the Goa'uld die.

But it wasn't the time for that, yet. She hadn't been able to see how to remove the force field keeping Daniel and the Colonel inside the cell, and there were too many Jaffa—at least three that she was able to see—still in the room. She couldn't be certain that she could eliminate all of them before they could take her out, and although she knew that Teal'c was somewhere, she didn't know exactly where. The question still remained of Nirrti's seemingly unending abilities to evade capture or harm, and Sam had not been able to determine whether she was wearing a personal shield of any sort. A personal energy field would repel bullets, causing them to ricochet, hitting the babies, or even Sam herself. Close quarters, not enough information. _Control_. As she forced her breathing to return to normal, her heart to stop racing, she listed the reasons _not_ to act in her head. Tried to focus instead on a plan that would allow all of SG-1 to return to the village with the children whole, and well.

"Interesting." The Goa'uld lifted her right hand, the glow illuminating a portion of the wall, now. "This one is different, somehow." With a flicker of fingers, her palm swallowed the light, and she raised her other hand, with its larger stone set into the oval-shaped instrument. The humming began again, accompanying the easy strobe of the orange light. "Stronger. She is infused with more power."

"Is this the one, My Lord?"

"Of that I am not yet sure, Jaffa." Nirrti passed her left hand over the child again, her own face basking in the glow emitted by the device. She turned her face to look at her guard, and Sam could see her expression—giddy—delighted—an impure sort of joy played across her normally even features. "But the potential is there. The flesh would need to be developed."

"And the third, my Lord?"

"I require only one for my purposes." The Goa'uld turned away from her prize and aimed herself towards the third quasi-crib. "Although if two present themselves as viable possibilities, I could make use of them both."

"For what?" Daniel had joined O'Neill at the force field, his voice rising through the curtain of energy that coursed in the doorway. "Use them both for what?"

But Sam could see that Nirrti had no intention of answering him. The corner of her thin, sharp mouth curved upwards, and just a hint of golden glow coursed around the Goa'uld's pupils. Both hands held ready, she stood at the third table, within full view of Sam's hiding place, gazing down on the infant resting upon it with a look of near-parental pride on her face. "Malleable. The human infant form is so very malleable. I can make it into whatever I desire, should the potential be present."

Her body changed as she raised her hands towards the table, bringing her right hand to hover directly over the baby's head. Nirrti's eyelids flickered as she focused her attention on the infant, and the instrument attached to her hand. As the jewel in the hand device gathered power, it seemed as if she had harnessed fire in her palm. A red beam wafted down to pan across the limp body on the table. After a few seconds, the beam seemed to retract back into Nirrti's hand, and the Goa'uld lowered her arms. "This one is as the first. Not possessing the qualities I require."

"Shall I dispose of it as well?"

"As we have already discussed, Jaffa." She sighed as she stood, staring down at the infant lying so unnaturally still before her. "It is no longer needed."

"And the other, my Lord?"

"I will take it with me." Nirrti yanked gracefully on the bindings on the instrument attached to her left hand. Turning, she took a few steps towards the central station in the room and bent to remove an ornate basket from a storage niche below the main table. Placing the tool in the basket, she added a few more items before handing the bundle to the Jaffa who stood nearest her. "Take those to my quarters."

Bending again, she removed a length of fabric from the bottommost storage area. "Mak-tra."

The Jaffa that had been standing near the chosen child came to attention. "Yes, my Lord?"

The Goa'uld reached out a hand to deliver the material to her guard. "Wrap the child in this. Give it to me."

With a few deft motions, the task was accomplished. The Jaffa raised the infant off the laboratory table and handed her over to Nirrti, who tucked the bundle into the crook of her left elbow. Turning, the Goa'uld stepped towards the door, gesturing for the basket-carrier to follow with a flick of her right hand.

Sam flicked her finger in the curtain, sealing the tiny gap as the Goa'uld drew near. She flared her nostrils, slowing her breathing in an effort to remain as quiet as possible. The heavy fabric billowed and then swayed near her feet as Nirrti and her Jaffa passed, and Sam could see the toe of her own boot clearly as light surged beneath the hem of the disturbed drapery.

"Where are you going, Nirrti?"

The footsteps ceased. "I grow weary of your impertinence, Colonel O'Neill."

"Hey—I'm just asking."

The Goa'uld's movement disturbed the curtain again. "It is of no concern to you."

"What are you going to do, Nirrti?" O'Neill's voice rose, angry and staccato, from his cell. "Make a bomb out of her like you did Cassie?"

"You grow tiresome, Colonel O'Neill."

"And you're getting predictable. Come on—just tell me. Are you going to rig her to explode and then send her through the 'Gate?"

"I warn you, human—"

"Hiding behind babies again, are you?" A thud came from the doorway—a fist, perhaps, against the stone. "Too much of a coward to fight your own battles?"

"Jack—"

"No, seriously." The Colonel spoke over Daniel's protest. "Take me, instead, Nirrti. Leave the kids alone."

"Cease your speech!" The Jaffa holding the basket took a step nearer.

"You're afraid, aren't you?" O'Neill's fist impacted the stone, now. "Too chicken to go up against someone actually able to fight you."

Nirrti growled, and a sudden movement disturbed the drape again. Sam sensed, rather than saw the Goa'uld's arm lift, and then a massive burst of energy forced Sam backwards into the wall behind her. Her shoulders and the back of her head slammed against the stone, and she couldn't quell her resultant cry. The intense heat of the ribbon device's beam blasted through the energy field, creating an explosion that flashed in the hallway with a deafening roar. The sound, the smell, the brightness permeated even the dense fibers of the drape, bathing the Major in an eerie red glow before collapsing back into blackness.

"Jack!" Daniel's shout sounded at the same time as a weight hit the floor—hard. "Jack—"

"Jaffa—Kree!" The Goa'uld took a few steps towards the doorway, the boots of her guard close behind. After a few feet, Nirrti turned back towards the undulating force field. "You would do well to accept this situation, Doctor Jackson. Angering me will not be to your advantage."

But if Daniel made an answer to that, it was lost within the clank of armor as the remaining Jaffa bagin to move in the laboratory across from the cell. Sam strained to hear more, but failed—and then the moment was lost as, in a whisper of silks and the metallic ring of her guard's uniform, the Goa'uld made her way down the corridor and turned into the other connecting passage.

And Sam was left in the darkness, with only Daniel's voice eking its way past the force field, through the heavy fabric of the wall hanging. "Jack—come on. Breathe."


	9. He'e

**He'e**

**(Flight)**

The Goa'uld's footsteps disappeared down the hall, and all that remained in her wake were the frantic sounds of Daniel to Sam's left, and the heavy shuffles of the Jaffa in the room to her right. Carter waited for a moment, trying to place the exact locations of the Jaffa, but only able to gather that they still meandered around the quasi-laboratory.

Two. There were two left. One of the original three lab guards had followed Nirrti out of the room and down the hall. At least that many more were still searching out in the forest, which brought the tally to seven—or maybe eight. It was more likely, however, that there were more. Sam figured on at least twelve Jaffa. The thought darkened her mood. Three contingents of the guards seemed more likely than two. Nirrti, to Sam's knowledge, had never traveled heavily accompanied, but neither was she one to take unnecessary chances. So that left her—one soldier—against twelve Jaffa.

The Major mentally ran through the situation, her fingers wrapping more solidly around the weapon she still held. With the Colonel down in his cell, Daniel occupied with caring for him, and Teal'c's location unknown, Sam felt alone. Alone, and growing ever-more-rapidly out of options. She forced back the frustrated groan that built in the back of her throat, unwilling to give away her position with a thoughtless noise. She needed to stay hidden a little longer—to think. Plans. She needed plans.

"Jack!" Daniel's voice intruded, distorted by the force field raining down within the doorway. "Jack, come on!"

"He will not rise." The voice came from nearby—in the doorway? The Jaffa seemed hugely self-satisfied, his voice carrying more than just a little smug attitude. "The beam from the device will have been amplified by the force field. His arrogant posturing has only resulted in his death."

"Come on, Jack." Daniel's tone told Sam that he was studiously ignoring the guard. "Breathe."

"I have already told you. He will not." From her right, the Jaffa's attitude was smug. "He is dead. Or soon to be."

"Don't listen to them, Jack." There was a momentary pause while Daniel did something—a loud ripping sound echoed through the chamber—a zipper? Or Velcro. And then a slap—skin on skin—hard, and a groan. "That's good, Jack. Come back."

"Your efforts are in vain."

"Jaffa!" From deeper within the laboratory, the other guard's voice rang with a growing concern. "It comes."

Sam scowled. '_It'_. Could they be referring to Nirrti? Surely they wouldn't be so callous and disrespectful towards their goddess, would they? She took a chance and slid the curtain to her right open just a bit. Through the doorway she saw light. Light and movement, the images hazy as her eyes readjusted. The infants still lay where they'd been left after their examination by Nirrti, but the Jaffa in the depths of the room stalked between the tables, agitated.

"Come, Jaffa." He stopped near the center location and turned his attention towards the doorway, where the other guard stood. Craning her head, Sam could see a bit of the other soldier's shoulder just within her field of vision. "There is not much time before it arrives."

"You fret over too little." The guard in the door turned, and Sam moved backwards and shifted the curtain just a little back towards the wall. "It is nothing but rain. We have encountered worse during our time on this planet."

But a sudden, distant rumble belied his words. Frowning, the guard in the door turned fully back around to peer down the hallway towards the side entrance at the end of the corridor. "It appears to be more than just rain, Shak-tor."

The Jaffa repeated himself, his tone bored. "A storm. Nothing more."

"The atmosphere on this planet seems capable of little else."

"Your complaints will do nothing to stop it."

But the rebuttal was roundly disregarded. "How long must we remain on this insignificant rock?"

"You grow insolent, Jaffa. We will remain here until Nirrti's work is done."

Carter watched as the second Jaffa grimaced, his mouth hardening into a tense line. Turning, he busied himself with some task at the central examination area. For a moment they were quiet, and all Sam could make out were the muffled sounds of Daniel attending to the Colonel in the cell. In the quiet darkness of her hiding place, she could hear the faint whisper of her own breathing, feel the rhythmic beat of her pulse where her index finger clutched her rifle. She concentrated for a moment on her own body—flexed and relaxed her wrists, her knees, swayed on her feet to loosen the joints in her hips. The words echoed in her ears—the most basic her most basic training. Stay ready. Stay loose. She couldn't afford to cramp up. The Colonel and Daniel needed her. Right now, she was all they had.

More thunder boomed its way around and through the structure, and Sam counted internally as she widened the gap between the wall and the curtain with her fingertip. By the time she'd reached eight, the opening she'd created was illuminated by a cracked flickering of eerie bluish light. Lightning. So, not just more rain—the storm that had blasted through the morning had returned in full force. And it was drawing closer.

The Jaffa called Shak-tor turned back towards his companion. "It is still some distance away. We can dispose of the specimens before it arrives in full force."

The other Jaffa shook his head. "I believe it would be better to wait."

"And I believe we should perform that task given us by our Goddess." Shak-tor reached out to motion at a table where one of the unsuitable infants lay. "Unless you are too weak to carry out this labor."

"Shall I show you which of us is the weaker?" The other guard made a threatening gesture.

"Enough!" Shak-tor held up his hand and turned back towards his charge. "Simply perform your task. It is what you are required to do."

Sam could see the other guard briefly before he turned and disappeared deeper into the room. From her vantage point, she watched as Shak-tor gathered up a few things around the examination table, bending to remove a package of some sort from the storage nook beneath. With a brusque sort of efficiency, he unfolded the wadded material, shaking it out completely before laying it across the infant on the table.

It only took a moment for the Major to recognize it. Kapa cloth. Most likely the same one used to swaddle the infant as she'd been laid down the previous night to sleep. The Jaffa unfastened the straps he'd previously used to secure the baby on the table, then lifted her roughly and pulled the kapa cloth beneath her tiny form.

"Make haste." Shak-tor pulled the pliant fabric around the infant. "We should take no chances in our performance of this task. Go and locate the carrier for the specimens. I shall prepare them for transport."

The other Jaffa nodded, then turnedand trudged towards the door, his slow gait a testament to his displeasure in his workload. Sam allowed the curtain to close as the Jaffa passed through the opening, listening as his footsteps faded down the hall, finally disappearing all together. She waited until she felt certain he was gone—trying to separate the audible evidence of the Jaffa's movements from the sounds coming from the cell behind her. She willed herself not to think about her team. Tried not to think about the Colonel, injured, dying, and Daniel frantically trying to revive him.

Carter forced herself to concentrate on the moment.

She'd been waiting for what—a chance? A single opportunity when she might change the situation. One guard—only one remained in the confines of the lab—and she recognized that the time had arrived. Sam closed her eyes tightly, a silent plea skittering through her mind as she quietly thumbed the switch on her P-90 from "automatic" to "single fire". Slowly, she let out her breath, then lowered her unencumbered hand to her thigh, sliding the Zat out of the holster there. Her finger curved around the trigger as she lifted the weapon, fitting it against the curtain's edge and teasing the heavy fabric away from the wall.

Shak-tor had walked away from the table, towards the center of the room, to where the infant lay on the opposite side. Slipping out from her alcove, Sam made her way to the wall next to the entryway, hugging it with one shoulder while craning her neck around to see all the way into the room. The Jaffa stood with his back to her, a few feet from the table, peering out a small opening in the back wall at the coming storm. Still, his body language was relaxed, an indication that he was completely at ease and comfortable. Unsuspecting.

A distant dissonance gave Carter the opportunity she'd been waiting for. The beginning of another clap of thunder murmured around her, echoing and bouncing along the stone walls of the temple. Sam took a steely breath and crossed the threshold of the room with purposeful, quick steps, raising her Zat as she approached the center of the room. As the thunder reached a crescendo, she took careful aim, stopping near the central station. Setting her jaw, she squeezed the trigger, and the blue jets of energy raced through the air catching the Jaffa on his back. Without hesitation, she pulled the trigger again almost immediately, both blasts concealed within the drums of the storm.

The Jaffa fell with a huge, metallic thud, sprawling on the thick carpeting in a heap of armor and muscle. Sam crossed towards the guard, placing a booted foot on his shoulder and giving the body a good shove. Satisfied he was no longer a threat, she turned her attention to the infant on the far table, and then at the one nearer the door. Both lay limp, and quiet. The Goa'uld's device had worked well in subduing their small bodies. Shuttering her mind against the implication of their stillness, Sam focused on the task at hand. At the very least, they would be easier to carry to safety. Assured that they wouldn't roll off their tables, she made a quick search of the room, searching for Teal'c—but finding only a room with no obvious means of exit except for the main doorway. Frowning, she turned towards the door, making her way towards the cell.

"Sam!" Daniel's whisper seemed explosive in the heavy silence. "Sam—what are you doing?"

"Getting us out of here, I hope." Carter stopped at the shimmering orange curtain of energy. Daniel still knelt in the center of the cell, the Colonel lying flat on his back on the floor next to him. Limp, lifeless, he seemed pale even through the wavering glow of the energy curtain. Gritting her teeth, Sam turned away, back towards the wall around the door.

"How? Is that Jaffa dead?"

"Yeah—he's dead." Passing a glance at Daniel, she caught his gaze for only a moment before returning her attention to a study of the stone surrounding the door. She knew she wouldn't find anything helpful. Just as she hadn't found anything before. Holstering her Zat, she reached out and used her fingertips to skim around the stone, searching for any groove, any markings, protrusions, or carvings. But her touch found only smooth, unimpressive stone, completely unremarkable. Quietly, she let out a forced breath, ending in a curse.

"Hurry up, Sam—you never know when the other guard will be coming back."

"I know, Daniel."

"Jack's in a bad way." Daniel stood, coming closer to the doorway as Carter studied the eerie orange glow of the force field.

As if he'd been waiting for the cue, the Colonel groaned, then flexed his foot. Sam peered over Daniel's shoulder to where O'Neill had roused, to where he was slowly, painfully, bending one knee, scooting his foot flat against the stone floor.

"I can see that, Daniel." She bit her lip before continuing. "There's just _nothing_. No sign of any sort as to how to control this thing."

"Maybe you could disable the controls with a blast from a staff weapon?"

"I don't think so." Sam rested her hand across the butt of her rifle as she crouched down to study the wall near her knees. "Like I said, no control panel. Without knowing where to aim—"

"We don't want to just start shooting—we don't know who might hear."

Sam didn't answer him, instead casting another look down towards the hallway.

A heavy exhale drew Daniel's attention towards the Colonel. "Jack? Don't try to get up."

"What happened?" Faint—O'Neill's voice seemed thin.

Daniel took a step towards the Colonel. "You got hit by the device—the hand thing. The blast was amplified by the energy field."

"I feel fuzzy." The older man moaned, the sound coming from deep in his chest. "Why do I feel fuzzy?"

"Hang on, Jack." Daniel returned his attention to the doorway and his other teammate. "Sam—you have to get us out of here."

"I can't feel my face." The Colonel lay on his back on the floor, both hand covering his eyes. Even through the shimmering light of the force field, Sam could see his hands shaking, his body trembling. "Why can't I feel my face? Are you sure I'm not dead, Daniel?"

"Not yet." The archaeologist pushed his glasses up towards the bridge of his nose. Lowering his voice, he edged closer to where Sam stood on the opposite side of the doorway. "That hand device really did a number on him. I'm not sure he can walk."

"I already told you, Daniel, I'm not dead." Bracing his body weight against the floor, he heaved himself onto his side, then rested on his hip and elbow. "Isn't that what I told you?"

"No. You're not dead." Daniel threw the words over his shoulder. "But you also don't want to do more damage."

"Oh." The Colonel He'd made it upright at least. Hunching over his knees, he dug his fingers into his muddled hair. "If I keep lying here like a corpse, then chances are I'll probably end up as one."

"Sir." Carter stepped closer to the door. "Be careful. We don't know how badly you might have been injured."

O'Neill held up a hand, then scowled when it shook. "Can it, Carter. Just find a way to get us out of here."

"Sir, I've tried." She shook her head, her eyes wide.

"Keep looking." The Colonel's tone brooked no argument. "That's why we keep you around. Isn't it?"

"Don't yell at her, Jack. This isn't her fault."

"Damn it, Daniel."

Daniel's harsh exhale quieted the Colonel. "I hate to suggest this, Jack, but maybe she could go and bring back help. She could go and find Teal'c."

"I won't leave you guys." Sam's response was immediate—and more forceful than she'd intended. Casting a nervous look down the hall, she set her chin before looking back into the cell. "We don't leave people behind."

"I know that, Sam." His glasses caught the glow of the force field as her friend stared at her through the fall of light. "But I don't see how we have any other choice. If you go back to the village with the babies—they'll believe you that they weren't taken by the Nightmarchers, right? They'll have to believe you then."

"But Daniel—"

"And then Aki and his men would come and help. They've already proven themselves against Jaffa."

"How do we get the babies back without harming them?" Sam's brows rose as a spate of thunder grumbled around them. "There's this small matter of a storm."

"Carry them underneath your clothes." Daniel gestured towards the large BDU blouse that fit like a jacket over his t-shirt. "We can't just abandon them here to die. Sam—you have to do something. If you can't get us out, then save them."

"But leaving you—" Swallowing hard, she took a step away, looking past Daniel to where the Colonel had raised his head, his dark eyes oddly bright through the energy screen. "Sir—I can't."

Quiet. Silence fell in the hallway, profound except for the not-so-distant thunder and the whip-like thrashing of the trees outside. The rain had started to fall, illuminated in striking brilliance by the lightning streaking through the sky. Sam took one last, futile, look around the doorjamb. Ran through options in her head and knew that she'd long since run out of them. Daniel's plan was probably the best one, but the thought of leaving the two of them here, in this cell, at the mercy of the Goa'uld made her stomach heave. She hesitated too long and saw the Colonel's face harden.

"Carter—you have to go." O'Neill's lips barely moved as he spoke. His eyes, narrowed and pained, fixed unwaveringly on hers. "Get out of here before that Goa'uld comes back."

She couldn't answer him, pressing her lips against the refusal that threatened.

"It's an order, Major. Get those kids to safety and then come back with reinforcements."

"Sir."

"Damn it, Carter." Dark, even through the bright fall of energy, his eyes, rather than his words reinforced his order. "There's no other choice."

And she knew it—had known it for a while. In a sudden, frantic move, Sam unhooked her weapon from her vest and made her way back into the lab. Stopping in front of the nearest table, she looked down at the infant lying there. Unnaturally still, the baby was naked underneath the kapa cloth, her dark hair in tight, unkempt curls against her head, her wan face lifeless. Laying her rifle on the carpet, Sam unfastened her vest and then her blouse and shrugged out of them, laying it on the end of the lab table. With a moment's hesitation, and an awkward glance across the hall, she yanked her tee-shirt out of her pants and then pulled it off, stripping down to her sports bra.

Moving quickly, she folded it in half, neckline to hem, and then wrapped the shirt around the baby's nether regions in a crude diaper, tucking the ends into the fold at the baby's waist. Lifting the infant in one arm, she used her other hand to wrap the kapa cloth diagonally around her body in a sling, tying a bulky knot with the two loose ends. Carefully, she inserted the tiny girl into the sling, adjusting the knot so that the child fit more closely to her body. With her one free hand, she lifted the blouse and worked it back on, and then reached for her tac-vest.

It wouldn't fit.

Daniel's hoarse whisper made its way across the hall. "Sam forget it—just get out of here."

Turning, she opened her mouth to answer him, but a sound stopped her. Footsteps. Boots on carpeting. And the slick rub of metal on metal. The guard was back. With care, one arm cradling the baby concealed within her clothing, she crouched down to grab her weapon, shoving the vest beneath the table with her foot. Turning her head, Sam caught Daniel's gaze, holding it briefly before turning and heading towards the back of the room.

"Shak-tor!" The Jaffa's voice was close—too close. Sam dodged around the center station and flew to the table at the back of the room, scooping up the baby boy that lay there with her free hand. She retreated further into the back of the room, holding the baby with her left hand, her right hand full of the Zat.

Too much. Overloaded, and with no place to hide, Sam crouched down behind the table, juggling the infant in her left arm until she had him more securely.

"Hey—there—Jaffa." Daniel, his manner aloof, deceptively easy. "You want to lend us a hand?"

"Cease, human." Shak-tor growled. "I grow tired of your impertinence."

"No—seriously." Pleading, near begging, Daniel called again. "I could really use some help for my friend, here. He's pretty messed up. Water. Or some food—anything. Come on."

But his wheedling elicited no further response, and Sam waited in her hiding place as the Jaffa arrived at the door, holding a thickly-woven basket in his hands.

"Kree, Shak-tor." He entered the room without looking around, placing the basket directly to one side of the entrance. "Our time grows short."

Sam waited, inching to one side so that she could see around the pedestal of the table. The Jaffa scowled when he received no response, then whirled around, scanning the room, his eyes coming almost immediately to rest on his friend's body near the far wall.

Instantly, he drew his Zat, holding it aloft as he made a larger search of the room. His gaze flickered to the tables, and the side of his mouth twitched when he saw they were empty. He leveled a look out the door, across the hallway to the cell there. "So you did not come alone. My Lord was correct."

Sam shifted sideways again as he started toward her. Her thighs burned—her slightly off-kilter crouch had her fighting for balance. She jostled around again, pulling the boy more snugly to her body as she used the short, hefty muzzle of her weapon to brace against the floor.

"I know you are still here. I can hear you breathe." The Jaffa grinned. "You will not escape."

Sam frowned, watching as the guard neared her. Raising her arm, she fit her elbow around the baby in her shirt even as she steadied the business end of the P-90 at Shak-tor. Close—she needed him closer. She knew that she would have only one shot at him. Willing herself patient, she moved again, fighting the pain that radiated down her legs.

"The filthy children you seek to rescue will not survive the blast from my Zat'ni'katel. When I kill you, I will end their useless existence, as well." He paused briefly as a flash of lightning crackled through the room. "And I will save myself a journey. How very fortunate."

Almost close enough. Three steps more—now two. Sam sucked in a stilted breath as he paused, as his perusal of the room alit on the table behind which she hid. Slowly, he bent a little one way and then the other, looking. As he frowned and continued his search, a huge, sudden clap of thunder ripped through the sky, echoing around and through the stone walls of the chamber.

The baby in Sam's arms jerked, then let out a pitiful little wail. Swallowing a curse, Sam firmed her hold on the baby and surged upwards, turning her body sideways as she raised her rifle towards the Jaffa and yanked the trigger. Too fast, too uncontrolled, her shot flew wild, ricocheting on the stone of the wall behind him before lodging in another. She ducked the energy burst of his Zat, stumbling backwards and into the wall. Shak-tor grinned and lowered his Zat to fire again as Sam lifted her own weapon in response.

_Move_! She stirred herself forward, her focus on the Jaffa and his Zat. Dodging to the left, she aimed for another table for cover, her body twisted, her posture lopsided. Too fast. Too off-kilter. The edge of her boot caught at the crumpled binding of the carpeting and her body hurtled, out of control, to the ground.

She hit hard, losing her grip on the P-90 as she fell. Wrenching her body to one side, Carter protected the baby in her left arm by landing on her back, her head making contact with the stone floor.

Stunned, the Major shook herself into awareness. Baby crying—the footsteps of the Jaffa shuffling they way towards her—there was a tight, high whine in her ears that she struggled to place before realizing it didn't really exist. Pain—nausea—her arms were losing feeling. She exhaled sharply before attempting to shove herself upright.

"You are weak, Major Carter of the Tau'ri." Shak-tor came to a halt a few feet away from her, his pleasure coursing through the thick breadth of his face. "You are weak. And now you are dead."

More sounds assailed Sam's ears—more bootfalls, more armor. Another contingent of Jaffa ventured in her direction—down the hall? Outside? It was impossible to place their movements. The bitter tang of failure rose in her pit of her stomach, and she pushed down the urge to vomit, forced back the temptation to cry.

"My Goddess will be greatly pleased."

"Of that, I have doubts."

Sam looked upwards, trying to locate the new voice, but a new volley of thunder and lightning flashed around her, punctuated by a blast from an energy weapon—a Zat? No—a staff weapon. Wild-eyed, she watched as Nirrti's guard crumpled, a gaping hole spitting smoke out of his midsection.

Squinting through the blurred air, Carter finally placed a hulking form a few feet away. A form that neared her and then lowered itself to her level.

"Major Carter." Velvet, deep. This time she recognized the voice.

"Teal'c!" A firm hand grasped her upper arm and righted her, settling her back against the wall where she'd fallen. "Where have you been?"

"There is not time to explain. We must leave this place."

"But—" At his urging, she lifted the baby in her left arm towards him, watching as he unzipped his jacket. With the tip of his knife, he cut a notch into his t-shirt, then ripped it down about halfway to expose his undershirt. With his customary deftness, he sheathed the knife in his belt, then stowed the infant in the warm pocket, tucking the edge of the t-shirt inwards and away from the baby's face before zipping his jacket back up. "The storm is upon us. We must return to the village and convince the men to come and help us free Colonel O'Neill and Daniel."

"Yeah—but—"

But Teal'c didn't allow her to finish, pulling her onto her feet and holding her up until she'd gained her balance. "Will you be able to run, Major Carter?"

Absently, she noted that his jacket was wet. "It's raining?" But she'd known that, right? Before she'd fallen and had the sense knocked out of her.

"As you see." Teal'c leaned over and peered directly into her face. "Are you able to run, Samantha Carter?"

She hesitated, then nodded. Oh yes.

She could run.


	10. Ho'i Hou

I have to apologize again for the length of time between these updates—it's inexcusable! Real life has really kicked me in the behind lately—I haven't had time for anything beyond kids and my work. But show quilt season is over, and my snow bird clients have gone home, so I'm hoping to be able to write more regularly. I've missed it!

_**Ho'i Hou**_

_(The Return)_

"We have to go back."

Her words were met with heavy stares and a bleak silence. The villagers' apprehension lay around them like a veil of ice. Huddled together with their heads bent towards each other, they spoke in rapid whispers, occasionally spearing a look at where the Major knelt at the front of the hale. The rank tang of fear filled the room and its occupants; the muted tones of their conversations spoke as loudly as their actual words.

There had been a larger crowd when she'd first arrived. Aki had dismissed the majority of them to return to their homes—to care for their families and ready themselves for the day ahead. He'd kept back a select group. A few of his closest friends and advisers, as well as Mahina, Kawehi, and a man that Sam assumed must be related to the child still within Nirrti's grasp.

She'd made her argument as soon as she'd been able. Shivering, weak, her words had been frail, and Sam could tell that they weren't convinced. Inhaling deeply, she tried again. "We can't just leave them there. We have to go back up there and get my friends and the other child."

"The mountain is forbidden." Aki took a half step forward, away from the half-dozen other people in the hale. He met Sam's eyes with a deep seated wariness. "It has been kapu for many years. There is evil there."

"You're right. It is dangerous." Her voice shook, and she ducked her chin to hide the frustration she felt. Needing to feel more in-control, she held a hand up towards where Teal'c stood at her side. Without a word, he grasped her cold digits in his large grip and pulled her to her feet. Her movements were painfully stiff—the frantic run through the sodden forest had caught up with her, as had the time she'd spent kneeling on the floor of the hale. The lauhala mat provided little in the way of cushioning, and even with the shelter of the meetinghouse, she still felt bone-cold.

Faltering slightly, Sam felt grateful for the stolid support of Teal'c standing at her side. She could feel the heat of his body next her, feel his strength. Her fingers dug into his wrist, as if trying to pull some of his seemingly boundless power into herself. Useless, she knew, and with a lingering touch, she let go, steadying herself before continuing. "What's up there is bad—very much so. But the evil on that mountain isn't what you think it is."

"And what do we think it is?"

Sam resisted the urge to look at where Kawehi stood behind Aki, huddled wide-eyed at Mahina's side. Reluctant to reveal the source of the information about the mountain palace, she settled her gaze on the chief. "Long ago, you lost a friend—a brother—on that mountain. He was taken from you by what you thought was a beast. I know that you think that it was Nightmarchers—you believe that the Huaka'i po are up there, but they aren't."

The chief's eyes narrowed. "You know much of our legends."

"You've shared them with me." Sam met his gaze bluntly. "Your people are proud of your heritage. And I've paid attention."

"It is not for the outsiders—the haole—to decide our fate. We control our own destiny."

"You're right." Sam nodded. "But first you have to understand the enemy."

"And you claim that, this time, it is not the Huaka'i po."

"I know it isn't." She paired her abrupt response with a shake of her head, and then waited, standing still, hoping that he would trust her and her instincts.

For a long, terse while, the hale lay silent, with the village chief and the Air Force Major standing at uneasy odds with each other. No sound came from their observers, no shifting of feet on the lauhala beneath their feet, no shushing of skin and kapa cloth. It seemed that everything, everybody, was transfixed on the chief, on the decision he had to make. Sam watched as a bevy of emotions played across his tattooed features.

In a moment of decision, one dark eye glinted. "Then who has done this?" Aki's voice was low, and he folded his arms across his chest. "Who has taken our keiki and captured your friends?"

"Nirrti." Casting a look at Teal'c, she gauged his reactions as well as Aki's. "She's a Gou'ald. No different than Kama pua'a or Ku. Somehow she's gotten through the 'Gate and taken over the palace in your mountains. She's set herself up a laboratory up there."

"A laboratory?" The word sounded even more foreign in the staccato rhythm of the Chief's speech.

Sam nodded again, fighting for a suitable explanation. "A laboratory is a place to study science. This particular Go'auld is interested in things like human physiology and biology."

The muscles rippled beneath the heavily patterned skin of Aki's biceps. "For what purpose would this demon do this?"

"A Hok'taur. An advanced human." Teal'c answered him, his voice strong amidst the stressed atmosphere of the hale. "She intends to create a new host for herself. The Goa'uld are weak, parasitical beings—they require a host in which to live."

It took a moment for the chief to deliberate this information. "So she desires to create a new body for herself? What kind of magic is this?"

"The Goa'uld have technology that far exceeds our own. They are capable of many things." Sam roughed her palm down her still-damp trouser thigh. "We've run into this particular one before. She can take a normal human body and modify it until it fits her specifications. It's machines, and science, but it's not magic."

"Why not just find a more powerful body? Why attempt to create one?"

It was Teal'c who responded. "So that her next host is more formidable than her last one. Stronger. More adept. Perhaps possessing abilities beyond that of her current host."

At the questioning look on Aki's face, Sam added to Teal'c's answer. "She obviously thinks that the keiki who have been fathered by Kama pua'a might be better hosts than normal humans. She thinks that they will have power beyond a normal human. That's why she chose them instead of the other children of the village."

The chief's eyes narrowed. "Then how are we to combat her?"

"The same way we did Kama pua'a. And Ku." Teal'c's low intontation made its way through the hale. "We will fight her and defeat her."

For a moment, there was silence. With a long, skeptical look split between Teal'c and Sam, Aki turned back towards his people, speaking to them rapidly, quietly, in his native tongue.

Sam watched momentarily before turning to face her teammate. "Teal'c—"

His expression seemed steeped with concern. "Are you well, Major Carter?"

The question, spoken in an impossibly low tone, was meant only for her. Sam turned towards Teal'c, answering in kind. "Just stiff. I'll be fine." But she knew that he could read her better than that. Planting her feet more firmly beneath her, she allowed herself another deep breath, casting him a look that she knew he'd understand. "Thank you, Teal'c."

His expression softened briefly, his eyes warming as he looked at her. "We will find them, Major Carter. Do not doubt."

Sam nodded, unable to answer him past the knot that had arisen in her throat. He reached towards her and placed a large, warm hand on her arm, his fingers tightening slightly before slipping away. "I just feel as if the longer we wait, the faster we'll—"

"Lose our opportunity?"

She didn't need to answer.

"And you are certain that the Goa'uld is Niirti?"

"Absolutely." She turned more fully towards her teammate, lowering her voice further. "I saw her. When the guards came around the corner, I hid myself behind the curtain on the back wall. There was an empty weapons closet behind it, and I stood there while she spoke with the Colonel and Daniel and then went into the laboratory room. She did something to the babies—scanned them with a different kind of hand device—one that I'd never seen before. And then she chose the baby that she wanted and carried it away."

"And left the two remaining infants to be disposed of by the Jaffa."

"Yes."

Teal'c's mouth tensed. "Then they deserved to die."

"Yes. They did." The Major ran her tongue across her lips. "How did you manage to stay away from the guards?"

"I, too, attempted to conceal myself behind the drapes on the wall."

"And that's how you found the passageway?" Sam well remembered their escape route through the walls of the palace. It had been dark in the hallway, filled with a cold kind of wet air that Sam had always associated with caves. The slope downward had been precipitous, and she'd slipped once, breaking her fall with a hand against the rough wall of the corridor. "The one that led out of the palace?"

His eyebrow rose as he inclined his head. "I made my way through the passageway to ascertain its destination, but then returned when I heard weapons fire."

A flickering image of a falling Jaffa blazed through Sam's mind. "I'm glad you did. Thank you."

His dark eyes scanned the crowd just beyond her as the corner of his mouth tilted upward. "I will not leave you, Major Carter. As long as it is within my power to aid you, I will."

Warmth flooded over Sam as she suddenly found it difficult to meet his gaze. Clearing her throat past the lump that had formed there, she set her chin as she answered. "I know."

So much more remained to be said. Gratitude for this man, for his quiet, unflagging support of her and the rest of their team, for the stolid power of his will. But try as she might, Sam had never been able to verbalize the connection she felt with him, and, to be honest, she figured that he probably already knew how she felt, anyway. It was like that with her whole team—they never expressly said what they felt, as if they just—_knew_—and then suppressed it all under a veneer of something easier to acknowledge. Comraderie? Friendship? Too light of words for these men who had become closer than family to her.

But lately, it epitomized her existence. Feel—and then deny. Love, and then ignore. Constantly waiting for another time, and another place—and maybe another life—in which to act on emotions that had been packed away like coats for a winter that wouldn't ever come.

"Major Carter." Shaken from her thoughts, Sam looked up to see that Teal'c's focus had changed from watching her to staring at the front of the hale, where a large figure had paused within the door. The newcomer was broad and tall, with shoulder-length graying hair and a stern heft to his expression. He shook the rain out of his hair before continuing into the room, his heavily decorated face and arms remarkable even in the dim light of the meetinghouse.

"Kumu." Mahina's sharp tone came from across the hale. Unerringly, the old healer made her way across the hale to where the spiritual leader of the village had stopped just shy of the mat. "Eia 'oe."

"Where else would I be, old woman?" The kumu passed a look from Mahina towards where Sam and Teal'c waited at the back of the room. "There is much to discuss."

"A'ole kuleana kou."

The kumu's bright white teeth flashed. "Hewa, Mahina. Pahilau. Of course this is my concern."

The crowd shifted en masse again, and Aki stopped next to Mahina. "I see to the safety of this village, Kumu. Your kuleana is to see to the observances of our God."

"We need not be protected from Lono, Aki." The kumu adjusted his kapa with a languid hand, barely glancing at the chief as he spoke. "He _is_ our protector."

"And how has he been watching over us recently?" Aki posed the question softly, his expression careful. "When there is this new threat amongst us?"

At this, the Kumu raised his head to look directly at Sam. "This threat has been foolishly welcomed by you. Found as dross in the garbage of a storm and then accepted back. Even now she remains unpunished as you stand here and coddle her. As you childishly believe all that she says."

Aki turned his head partway, casting a glance out of the corner of his eye at the Major. "Nohea is not our enemy, Kumu."

"Neither is she, or her friends, our salvation." Lifting an arm, the Kumu pointed at Carter and Teal'c. "How much have we lost since they came to our village? This business has interrupted our way of life. Our mana. We have lost our loved ones, and sacrificed our keiki."

Sam took a step forward. "We haven't taken anything from you. The Goa'uld did that. The Goa'uld and her Jaffa. They took your infants from you. _They_ have caused this to happen. Not me or my team."

"And about this we should merely believe you?"

"Yes." Carter nodded. "Because I'm telling you the truth. A Goa'uld named Nirrti is responsible for taking your children. She still has one of them up there—as well as my two other friends. Friends who risked their own lives only a few months ago in order to rid you of Kama pua'a and Ku, I might add. This has nothing to do with Lono or his henchmen."

"Our God is angry."

"This is not the work of your God."

The Kumu's lips spread in a semblance of a smile. "Again, this is only what you say."

"It is." Raising a hand, Sam shoved her ragged bangs out of her eyes. "But I have never lied to you, or to anyone on this planet."

"You are a foreigner. A Haole who has not the breath of life flowing through her body. You do not understand our ways."

Bracing her hands on her hips, Sam inhaled deeply, parsing her words through stiff lips. "No, but I understand Nirrti's. She is evil. She wants nothing more than to use your people for her own ends. And she's still holding Colonel O'Neill and Daniel—good men who have only worked and fought on the behalf of your people."

"Nohea." Mahina had made her way across the room, coming to a halt next to Sam. Lifting a hand, she laid it on Sam's cheek before turning to the village's spiritual leader. "Nohea o na wai kipaku ia makou kama pua'a. Hale aikane. Ai'e mahalo."

Water fell to the floor as the Kumu shook his head. "We owe her nothing."

"Listen—I mean you no disrespect." Sam took a step towards the corpulent form of the priest. "But my friends are still up there. And with or without your permission, I'm going to go get them."

"You will fail." The priest's smile turned sour. "Lono will see to it."

Sam's blue eyes moved pointedly from the Kumu to Aki. "We might fail—if we don't have your help."

But it was the older man that responded. "You will have none. You and your friend should leave us to our observances and our lives."

"I'm not trying to break your faith in your God." A sudden sense of panic flew through her, and Sam surveyed the other villages, trying to interpret the expressions on their faces. "I'm only asking for your help in saving my friends."

The Kumu lowered his lids, his languid smile a reflection of abject boredom. "You should accept that your friends are gone. As we have accepted the loss of the keiki."

"There's still hope." Sam lowered her chin in an attempt to regain her composure. "I won't give up."

A sharp bark of something equating to laughter erupted from the priest, his fleshy body swaying slightly with the effort. "Then go. Do what you must. And when you die, we will be rid of you and your friends."

"But you won't be rid of Nirrti." Teal'c spoke slowly, softly. "The Goa'uld is the enemy. She will not cease unless you stop her."

Raising his hands, the Kumu turned to cast a steeled look towards the crowd. "Enough! Enough with these tales, these lies!"

"And what if they are not lies?" Aki stared at Sam before turning his attention back towards the priest. "What if it is the truth that there is an evil God in the mauna who wants to use our people in this way? Is it not our kuleana to protect our people?"

"We should rely on Lono." The Kumu narrowed his eyes at the chief. "He will protect and provide."

Aki slapped a hand across his broad chest. Even in the dim light of the hale, the welt left behind was visible—red and raised around the dark lines of his tattoos. "Who gave us strength? And power? And the will to fight? Lono! We would be ungrateful for his gifts if we were to merely stand by and allow this evil to happen to us."

"You must learn obedience, Aki, if you are to guide this people."

Sam glanced up to see the chief watching her, his eyes narrow, his lips thin. Something had changed in him, and she dared—for the first time since entering the hale—to hope that matters were turning in their direction.

Without looking away from her, Aki pulled himself up to his full height. "I must learn to make decisions based on something other than tradition and fear."

"Then you are not fit to lead."

"Enough!" Aki whirled to face the Kumu, his body taut. "That is enough! I am no longer a child, Kumu. We are no longer slaves. We need to fight against those who would harm us. If you do not intend to help us in this effort—to bless us—then you are not fit. Nor are you needed."

The priest froze, glaring at Aki before taking in the faces on the other onlookers. Slowly he moved, adjusting the kapa on his shoulders, drawing his angry reserve around him like a secondary cloak. Without a word, he crossed the lauhala mats on his broad, flat feet, his heavy body making a dense shadow in the doorway before disappearing into the misty dawn light beyond.

-OOOOOOO-

"Major Carter." Teal'c stood near her, his body shielding her from the worst of the village's scrutiny. He'd been a solid presence at her side since the confrontation in the meeting house, saying more through his silence than she'd believed possible. After the Kumu had left, Aki had waited only a few moments before exiting as well, the others trailing behind him. Even Mahina had left, pulling Kawehi along in her wake.

Needing some fresh air, Sam had escaped the close environs of the building and had ended up huddled under the eaves of the thatched roof, unsurprised when her friend had followed suit.

Glancing up at him, Sam ran a stiff, cold hand through the mess that had become of her hair. She still hadn't warmed up, her clothes hung on her body like a frigid skin, her feet felt encased in slush. But nothing chilled her more than the fear that ached at her from the inside. And the guilt. Whenever she blinked, she could see the Colonel staring at her from behind that orange force field, his dark eyes commanding her to escape. Why did adherence to his orders make her hate herself so much? She leaned back against the wall of the hale, folding her arms across her chest, trying to will some comfort into her soul? Whatever—it wasn't working.

Beside her, Teal'c's low voice seemed warm. "It was a relief to see you emerge from the forest. I much feared that you had been captured."

They'd been separated when she'd lost her footing and slid down the side of a steep embankment. There had been no time for him to come to her aid—the Jaffa had been only a few yards behind them. She'd signaled for him to continue towards the village, and he had, as she'd tucked herself into a ball at the base of a huge pandanus tree and waited for the patrol to pass. By the time Sam had climbed the rise and followed, Teal'c had been gone.

"Did you get here long before I did?"

"It was a period of perhaps a quarter of an hour." His voice almost unnaturally even, Teal'c spoke without any emotion at all on his face. "I deposited the child in the hale and then returned to the path, hoping to be of some assistance to you."

"Thank you." Carter swallowed, trying to ease the stiffness in her mouth and throat. "I don't know what would have happened if—"

His dark eyes narrowed. "But I did."

"As always." Sam offered her best attempt at a smile. "I just don't know how we're going to do this. I don't have any weapons. I lost my Zat—somewhere—and I left my P-90 and other gear up at the palace."

"Then our first task must be to retrieve those items that we need and then we will work on bringing down the force shield."

She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment before looking back up at Teal'c. "Maybe we should try to make the 'Gate and call for back up."

"The 'Gate is still inaccessible from the shore. We would have to traverse the mountains. And even then, the journey would be perilous. Surely with this much rain, the rivers would be running." His shrug seemed pointed. A reminder of past events.

Pausing, Sam raised a hand to shove her hair back from her face again. "You're right. I know you're right. I just—"

The rain had begun to fall again, and for a long time, the sound of it filled the silence. Shifting beside her, Teal'c's hand tightened on his staff weapon as he stared out into the murky morning. "I do not doubt you, Major Carter. Nor your ability to lead and to fight."

Unbelievably, his words caused Sam to choke out a laugh. "I don't feel very warrior-like right now, Teal'c."

"Perhaps not. But in this circumstance, your compassion makes you a more formidable adversary. You are intent upon making things right, and that will lead you to fight with more strength."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Teal'c."

More rain, rustling on the thatched roof, and landing with dull, staccato thuds on the hard-packed earth around them. Distant thunder grumbled as the sounds from the village expanded with the dawn. She could smell food—and hear voices as a group of people closed in on the meetinghouse. She didn't have to look at her friend to know that he was watching her. But somehow, that intractable gaze drew her to turn her head to see him looking down at her, his deep eyes absolutely sincere.

"You may not, Samantha Carter." Inclining his head slightly, Teal'c's left brow edged upward. "But I do."

**Glossary:**

Haole—A foreigner

Eia 'oe—Here you are

A'ole kuleana kou—This is not your concern

Hewa—Mistake

Pahilau-Untruth

Kipaku ia makou kama pua'a—Rid us of Kama pua'a

Hale aikane—Friend of the house

Ai'e mahalo—Deserving of thanks


	11. Kokua

_**Kokua**_

_(Help)_

_Deja view. _

That's what he'd said that time, right? Sam wasn't sure—exhaustion and concern had long since claimed her ability to do anything other than put one foot in front of the other. She had been studiously avoiding thinking about anything other than the task at hand for the past few hours. Ever since Teal'c had shaken her awake, handed her a bowl full of food and told her to get ready.

_Deja view._

Sam leaned into a particularly odd angle on the edge of the mountain, using the weapon she'd been given to steady herself. Stepping sideways, she dug the ridged edges of her boots into the mud and climbed further upwards. She'd already missed a patch of loose ground under a fall of brush and slid backwards into Teal'c. Cursing under her breath, she'd righted herself and determined not to let it happen again.

Weakness. She couldn't be weak right now.

Allowing herself a glance to her left, Sam surveyed the wide expanse of green below that eventually turned into a wider field of blue. The clouds had wisped away, leaving the sky so blue that it seemed false, somehow. Cool, moist air buffeted the side of the mountain, and just below her, a few birds rode the winds ruffling the branches of the tallest of the valley's trees. Even after the devastating storm of the night before, the island glistened like a jewel. How _that_ was possible, the Major couldn't guess. This place just seemed to defy reason.

Or maybe it was just the fact that they were here—in this paradise—fighting the Goa'uld.

_Again. _

_Deja vu? _

Sucking in sigh, Carter returned her attention to the path in front of her. Wet, brown earth stretched up the side of the mountain, framed on either side by bright green foliage. Methodically, she made her way up the trail, avoiding the slicked places where her companions' feet had already fallen. Their bare feet gave them an advantage in the climb—deep holes in the path showed where their splayed toes had dug into the soil, giving the native men more stability in their ascent.

Those muddy footprint wells reminded her of something—another mission—another planet. Another group of native people and another impossible task. But really—wasn't that the norm these days? It would have been more alien to be in this situation in the mountains outside the Springs, rather than on a mountain a few billion light years away. How twisted, that this was more common for her than worrying about running out of milk or finding the perfect jeans.

_Deja view._

When exactly _had_ the Colonel said that? They'd been at the SGC. It had been a familiar moment—one of those light-hearted, teasing moments that they'd been able to have before they'd agreed to leave it all in the room. There hadn't been many of those times lately—staunch professionalism had taken over so maddeningly completely. But still, Sam had kept a precious few of those memories close—probably closer than she should. In those odd moments when she allowed herself to imagine impossibilities, she'd dust one off and let it fly, and then lose herself in the 'what ifs'. This particular phrase had poked at her for hours, now. She should have been able to figure it out, shouldn't she?

Five more steps. Ten. Thirteen. She followed the trail around the knee-shaped wedge at the top of the mountain and emerged at the top, then kept going until she'd passed by the small cadre of men who'd already reached the summit. Stopping at the edge of the meadow, she dragged her feet across the thick grass in an attempt to clean the worst of the mud off her boots.

"You may also need to clean off the blade of your weapon, Major Carter." Teal'c stopped just to her side, his large body angling between her and Aki's group of warriors.

"What?"

"The machete." Teal'c nodded at the wooden instrument she held in her right hand. "It has become heavily soiled, which may negate its efficacy."

Sam lifted the long, broad knife to peer at the blade. Carved out of a solid piece of koa wood, the weapon was more like a machete than a sword—short of hilt with a wide blade that curved up into a wicked point. As if the heavy wedge wasn't already intimidating enough, the outward curve had been embedded with hundreds of pieces of broken shell and coral, creating a menacing serrated edge. The mud caking those little lethal bits, however, dulled its effect.

Without a word, she bent and swiped the blade with long strokes on the wet grass beneath her.

"I do not believe that their plan will work."

Sam glanced upward at her teammate. He stood easily, his staff weapon loose in his hands. Nothing in his manner would make anyone think that he doubted either his companions or his mission.

As plans went, though, she had to admit it hadn't been the greatest. Her main purpose in agreeing to it had been to get the group moving up the mountain. She'd hoped that a better plan would come to her during her climb, but so far no luck. Ducking her chin, she grimaced.

Too much thinking about other things.

_Deja view. _

"Me neither." Sam pulled a clump of grass from the ground and went to work on cleaning the caked mud from between the points on her blade. "But so far, I haven't been able to come up with anything better."

"Our focus should be on rescuing Colonel O'Neill and Daniel Jackson."

Her hand stilled, and Sam bit back a frown. "We can't let her get away with the child, Teal'c."

"Indeed not." He shifted, turning more fully towards her. "But neither can we sacrifice our friends in order to retrieve a child who may already be compromised."

"Compromised." The word felt wretched on her tongue.

"Nirrti may already have completed whatever experiments she was performing on the infant. It is possible that she is no longer the child she was."

She had to concede his point. With a tiny shrug, she nodded. "Okay, then what do you suggest?"

The current plan consisted mainly of entering the palace in groups of two and attempting to take out the guards before confronting the Goa'uld head-on. Sam had recognized the plan to be foolhardy immediately, but she'd agreed to it anyway. The plan came with a team, something she could not do without.

Sensing he had more to say, Sam tilted her head upward, squinting against the sun to see Teal'c better.

His expression changed slightly—moving from disapproval to speculation. "The force shield must require a great deal of energy to sustain it."

"I looked, Teal'c. So did you." Sam chucked the soiled grass to one side and pulled some more. "We couldn't find any kind of control panel anywhere near the cell."

"Then it stands to reason that the device is controlled remotely, and that there is a central power source within the palace."

"A central—" Frowning, Sam tossed a look at their companions, who were waiting with scarcely-veiled impatience. She forced back the tang of shame that threatened at the back of her throat. _Well, hell._ "A power plant. I should have thought of that."

The Jaffa's expression turned intimate. "Your mind has been much engaged of late. Of that I have no doubt."

He saw so much. And of course, he'd _seen_ so much. Carter knew without a doubt that Teal'c had been following her thoughts all the way up the mountain—had known she'd been thinking not so much about solutions as about how much she had to lose. With his dark, quick eyes on her, she found that she had no words with which to respond, so she simply waited for him to continue.

"I am also certain that were we to find the main power supply to the palace, we would be able to destroy it. The crystals are notoriously fragile and can be disabled with the most primitive of weapons. This would serve to free Colonel O'Neill and Daniel Jackson."

"The Jaffa will keep watch on the power room."

He showed his agreement with a slight tilt of his head. "However, they are arrogant."

Carter considered this, feeling the beginnings of hope. "Meaning that they probably won't have the place very well guarded. They'll rely heavily on the outer contingent to keep us from getting into the building, leaving the inner sanctums relatively easy to breach."

"I have seen it many times."

With a final swipe of her weapon on the grass, Sam tilted a look upward at her friend and teammate. "What are the chances that they've stowed our gear and weapons in the same room as the power core? If we could get it all in one fell swoop—"

"That would indeed be an advantage."

"It would." She stood, swiping the knife dry on her pants. "But we'd have no idea where to begin. We didn't get any further into the building than that one corridor and those few rooms. There has to be much more to the place than that."

Teal'c inclined his head. "Unfortunately, we are not familiar with the palace."

Carter tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth, frowning. After a long breath, she looked up at Teal'c and gestured toward the group milling around the grass a few yards away. "No. We're not. But _they_ are."

-OOOOOOO-

She still wasn't sure of their names.

Aki, she knew, of course. He was the most familiar of the men who had chosen to accompany Sam and Teal'c back up the mountain. Even now, half covered in the mud that seemed to cling to everything, his tattoos set him apart from the rest. The other men she recognized, but didn't know their names with any certainty. Six in all. Six men willing to defy their priests and God and journey into the heart of the island to try to rescue two strangers and a half-breed infant.

Sam approached the group deliberately, her weapon held easily at her side. The rough hemp-like rope covering the handle tickled at her palm, and she adjusted her grip before stopping at Aki's side.

The chief raised a brow at her. "Are you prepared to continue?"

"Yes—thank you." Sam nodded, offering a smile. "I just have a few questions about the palace."

"We have told you all we know, Nohea."

"I know." Scanning the rest of the group, the Major continued. "But I've been thinking as we climbed up here, and I recalled that you told me that you'd lost a friend in the palace."

Aki looked towards his feet before focusing back on her. "We did. He was overtaken by whatever demon resides there."

"I know what that's like." Sam raised a hand to rifle through the mess of her hair. "I've lost many friends in the last few years."

"Then you know that we can take no chance that this demon escapes. We must destroy her and her guards."

"And we'll try to do that." Eyes widening, Carter looked at each of the men in turn. "But we'll have a better chance of succeeding if we have more help."

One of the other men shook his head, exhaling roughly. Taller and broader than Aki, the young man held not a machete in his hand, but a sinister barbed spear. "But there was no one else in the village who would come to the palace with us. I came only because the baby still missing is ohana to me."

"Peko is right. No one else could come." Lifting a hand, Aki gestured back towards the village. "We could not leave the women and children unguarded. We could not spare any more of our people."

"I'm not talking about your people, Aki. I'm talking about mine."

Silence punctuated her words. Sam bit her lip and turned her head into the winds that seemed omnipresent.

"They have been taken captive, have they not? Trapped in a chamber in the palace." Aki scowled. "How could they be of help? How do you know they are even still alive?"

"They aren't dead."

"How do you know?"

"We need to free them." The statement sounded simplistic, even to Sam's ears. "But to do that, we need to cut the power to the shield holding them in their cell. There has to be a room within the building that has a machine in it that generates power. The problem is that Teal'c and I didn't get far enough into the place to see where that room might be."

"You believe that we might know of such a room?"

"You and your men have been in there. You must have seen more of it than we have. All we have to do is to find the power center and neutralize it, and the shield that keeps the Colonel and Daniel in their cell will disappear. They'll be able to help us find the child."

The chief's dark eyes narrowed. "But what of the guards?"

"We find a way to distract them—a diversion. Something to get them out of the palace." Sam scanned the group before continuing. "The room that we're looking for will be deep within the walls of the building, but it probably won't be too heavily guarded. The Goa'uld are arrogant that way. If you can draw the outer palace guards away from the building, then Teal'c and I should be able to get deep enough into it in order to find the power core. It'll be easier if one of you has seen it and can tell us where to go."

"Describe this room to us."

Teal'c's deep baritone rose from just over Carter's shoulder. "The power core is an array of crystals. The stones glow as they give power to the facility. There will be many of them in a variety of different colors. They will be arranged in the walls, perhaps, or on racks in the center of the room. It is possible that a noise might emanate from this room—like a constant drone or a hum."

"I know the room of which you speak." One of the men, slightly smaller than the rest, shoved his hair behind his shoulder and stepped forward. "I believe I have seen it."

Carter stepped toward him. "You've seen the power room?"

"A'e." The man nodded. "It is within the ground, but not so deep as the ana kahe pele."

"Makani means that is not as far down as the lava tubes. It will be no more than ten feet below the surface." Aki offered the clarification to Sam and Teal'c before gesturing for his friend to continue.

"There are steps down to it, and in the center of the chamber, stones on a pillar shine brightly like bits of the sun."

"That has to be it." Allowing herself a tiny smile, Sam ran a hand through her hair. "Are there any other rooms in the palace like that one?"

Quickly, Makani shook his head. "Out of many rooms, it is the only one with stones such as this."

This time, Teal'c asked the question. "From where do these steps descend?"

"At the front of the palace, there is a grand room. At the back of it there is a smaller one. To the right—on the side of the mountains—there is a passage. Follow the passage and you will come to the steps."

"Is there any other way in?"

"A'e." Another man, tall, thin, with hair cropped short, stepped forward. "Behind the pillar there is a hidden portal in the wall. It is covered with a strange kapa cloth. If you follow that passage, you will find yourself outside the palace, on the mauka side."

It only took Sam a moment to figure that out. "So, the mountain side?"

"Yes."

After a long, thoughtful pause, Aki nodded. "It appears that we have a new plan."

"It does." Shifting his staff weapon in his hand, Teal'c moved closer. "Major Carter and I will enter the palace as soon as you and your men have enacted your diversion. We will free Colonel O'Neill and Daniel Jackson and find the infant the Goa'uld Nirrti has taken."

"And do you think that it is possible to accomplish all of that?" Skepticism mixed evenly with the resolve on the chief's face. "We are outnumbered and our weapons are not as powerful."

"We've done it before, Aki." Sam looked down at her muddy feet before lifting her gaze back up to her companions. "On this planet, and on many others. We've beat them before and we can do it again."

-OOOOOOO-

_Deja view._

Sam jogged close to Teal'c as they made their way towards the palace. They were taking a longer path into the forest, avoiding the path in favor of a more shielded route. The native men had already peeled off towards the mountains, their plans made swiftly and in their own language as they angled off into the denser forestation further inland. Carter and Teal'c had a general idea of their scheme, but they were both prepared to wing it if necessary.

Because that's what they did, right? Instances like this were what her career, _her life_, had become over the past four years. A seemingly unending series of moments when nothing went right followed by moments of blinding greatness, all accompanied by fear so deep and disturbing that she felt at times that she could no longer keep her head above it.

The key was to turn the anxiety into motivation.

How many times had she pulled that particular trick out of her hat? And how many times could she expect to succeed in the future? This is where the panic had started lately—the fear that eventually her luck would run out and she would lose everything that she cared about. Her nightmares weren't about the monsters she'd encountered at the other end of wormholes, nor about being killed or stranded off world. She didn't dread what she'd find in the far-distant reaches of the galaxy.

What terrified Sam Carter was returning home alone.

_Deja view._

Her feet sliced through the long grasses as they neared the outer most edges of the woods surrounding the palace. Bending low, Sam trailed Teal'c as he made his way from shadow to shadow, using the trees to conceal their passage through the vegetation and towards a predetermined spot near the entrance of the palace.

When Teal'c stopped, so did she, crouching low behind a large hibiscus bush. Her heart pounded within her, and she took a moment to concentrate on her breathing, trying to calm down. It would take time for Aki and his men to bring their plan to fruition, and she intended to recoup as much strength as possible in the interim.

-OOOOOOO-

_Deja view._

_O'Neill had said it wrong on purpose, trying to be funny. He knew the correct pronunciation, of course. Just yesterday he'd used it while he'd been on the other side of the strange orange force field. As he'd reminded her of another time they'd stood so separated._

_Fishing. That was it. The Colonel had just invited her to go fishing with him again, and she'd declined—for the second time. He'd left her lab and made his way down the corridor—and she'd run after him just as she had days earlier. Only, he hadn't been beamed away by the Asgard this time. Instead, he'd been summoned by the General to help take care of the doomed submarine while she'd gone to help Thor with the replicators in his home galaxy._

_She'd arrived back at Earth just in time to help save him. Just in time to lock a signal on the Colonel and Teal'c and pull them away from certain death._

_She'd felt this same panic then, too, as she'd realized the situation. The thought of losing her team, of losing _him_, was terror itself, a bilious thing that rose up in her gut and threatened to destroy her from the inside out._

_And what had pulled her through it that time had been the thought—the hope—that someday if the Colonel offered again, she'd be able to say 'yes'._

_So she crouched hidden, waiting for the cue to go forth and vanquish yet another bad guy. _

_Deja view._

_Deja view._


End file.
